Once Upon A Time
by OddCoupler222
Summary: Rachel Berry didn't particularly consider herself a storyteller, but who was she to turn down a request? Luckily, she had some inspiration to draw from, including - as all stories in her humble opinion should - both a musical and romance. And, like every great tale, it all began with once upon a time...
1. Take Me Back To the Start

Rachel should have known that being confined to her apartment with four kids wasn't going to be a walk in the park. She really didn't know what had possessed her to volunteer herself up as a babysitter.

All right, that was a lie; she _did_ know, and the way the afternoon was turning out really wasn't making her feel any better. She'd been hoping for some reassurance that she could deal with all of the kids and manage it all effortlessly.

She huffed out a breath as her hands settled on her hips and she surveilled the living room. It was a decently sized living space, she reminded herself, when it wasn't looking like this. _This_ as in a discarded Game of Life box with some of the pieces still scattered around on the table, pillows and blankets from a fort that had gone so very wrong strewn on the floor, and the chair and couch both taken up.

It was hard to think that this had all happened within the time frame of two hours.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when there was a hand tugging on hers, and she was met with pleading blue eyes, "Can we _please_ go outside, Auntie Rachel?"

Kurt and Blaine's five-year-old son, James, was the picture of the word adorable, and despite the fact that she felt _this_ close to frazzled, his little smile broke her down enough to smile back. The smile was tinged with regret, though, as she looked out the window to where the snow was coming down thick and heavy, "I already told you that we can't. No one has their snow clothes here."

And though Rachel had debated all of them going out and to the park or something more than once, if nothing else to burn off excess energy, it just would be irresponsible.

James sighed and nodded, before he threw himself back into playing. James being here on Saturday afternoons was nothing new; his voice lesson ended at the same time as Rachel's weekend rehearsal for her upcoming show, and was only a block away, so several times a month she would pick him up and let Kurt and Blaine have the afternoon to themselves.

Which had been the case today.

However, on James' typical afternoons here, he didn't usually have other children to play with, which apparently really spiked up his energy level. Of course, having a seven-year-old boy who enjoyed wrestling wasn't helping anything at all, and she grimaced when Quinn's nephew, Alex, challenged James.

It was when they rolled over one another and nearly went sprawling into the living room table that had her jumping to action, "Okay, that's certainly enough of that."

She knelt down to where they were and started to pry them apart, which was easy because Alex flopped onto his back and groaned, "I'm bored."

Rachel was entirely too aware of that fact.

Quinn's sister Frannie had flown in the night before from Indiana. She was staying in a hotel but had arrived at the apartment hours ago, wanting to join Quinn on the trip she was making to the airport to pick up their mother and Rachel's dads, who were both, mercifully, on the same flight.

Alex's sister, Liz, sighed as she set the book she'd been reading down on her lap. She'd joined in for the Game of Life, but had deserted the blanket fort in order to curl up on the chair and read, "I am, too."

Oh, great. Now _three_ out of four were bored. She was an entertainer, and apparently she couldn't even entertain a group of children! She sat back on her heels and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Board games didn't work, forts were out, no one could agree on a movie… what had she been thinking when she'd told the Fabray sisters that she would be _completely fine_ with not only James but both Alex and Liz as well?

Not to mention Beth, who was laying down on the couch, holding up her phone, texting. She wasn't causing any problems, but she'd refused to get off of her phone and couldn't be enticed into anything else since she'd arrived. Though, Rachel was trying to tell herself that it wasn't anything personal and that it was just how fourteen-year-olds acted these days.

When _she'd_ been fourteen, she'd had game night with her fathers every week!

Though even without the lens of hindsight, Rachel knew that she hadn't been the average teen. Shelby and Beth had been in the city for the past week, ever since Beth's school had let out for winter break, for a little vacation. And Rachel knew even without Shelby telling her that Beth was more than a little put out that her mother wasn't going to let her stay alone in their hotel room while she did some last minute holiday shopping.

Despite the fact that they were going on their fourth year of marriage and tenth year together, she and Quinn had never had all of their family out to New York to see them at the same time. This was the first time, and she wanted it to go perfectly.

Out of habit for when she was stressed, her right hand came up to fiddle with her wedding ring. She still had an hour to go here without other adult company, at the very least, and probably more given the inclement weather they were experiencing.

Dark eyes dropped to the ring, and she thought of her wife's surprised yet quietly pleased smile when she'd volunteered to stay behind with the gaggle of children, saying that she had it under control.

The thought of it calmed her enough that she managed to take in a deep breath – maybe it wasn't going according to the _Sound of Music_ -esque afternoon plan she'd had originally thought of, but she could still manage this.

After patting James lightly on the shoulder and hoping that translated to him that she didn't want any more wrestling, she stood and looked at Liz, who was now quietly tapping her fingers against the back cover of the book, "What are you reading?"

The young girl curled her feet up under her as she sighed, her bottom lip sticking out a bit in a pout, "It doesn't matter. I finished it."

 _That_ was something she could possibly help with, and Rachel was a second away from offering to look for another book before she bit her own words back. She just didn't think Quinn had anything that would match the eleven-year-old's tastes. And she _knew_ that none of her limited selection of Broadway theatres and the stars that illuminated them would interest her.

Liz was apparently of the same state of mind, "When's Aunt Quinn coming back? She always tells the best stories."

Before she could even think of looking up the status of the flight Quinn and Frannie were waiting on, James popped up to sit from where he'd been laying on the ground, "Aunt Rachel can tell us a story! She tells me stories all of the time, and they're really good."

She paused for a moment, taking in his words, as a smile automatically crept up on her face at the praise. Granted, the stories she often told James when it was just the two of them were re-tellings of Broadway shows, but still, "A story?"

She had no way of knowing that the mention of a story would garner Liz, James, and Alex's attention, but it did, and three eager sets of young eyes were suddenly on her. Honestly, if she'd known a _story_ was all it took to garner this kind of attention, she would have jumped to it before the destruction of her living room. And because Rachel was nothing if not the ultimate entertainer – though, admittedly, storytelling was not her typical forte, she nodded slowly and made her way to sit at the end of Beth's couch.

The teenager remained on her phone, but moved her feet, and Rachel wondered, "What kind of story do you want to hear?" She was thinking of perhaps a dramatic re-telling of _Funny Girl_ – it was always a crowd pleaser. Though, James was her only crowd, but… who wouldn't love it?

"Something with music!" James suggested, as he bounced slightly – was it ever any doubt who his parents were? She didn't think so.

But _Funny Girl_ was looking like a very viable option, and she gave him a warm smile. She even had some costume bits she'd kept from her three year run as Fanny Brice in the Broadway revival a few years ago, which would make for a _fabulous_ impromptu show.

"Something with fights!" Alex interjected, remaining sprawled out on the floor, but throwing his arm into the air in a mock-punch.

That made _Funny Girl_ look like a much less valid choice.

"Something with a happy ending," Liz contributed.

Rachel was considering her options, before Beth peered up from her phone, "Why don't we just make it a fairytale?"

Her voice was sarcastic, and it made Rachel frown as she threw her a look. But then she took in a deep breath as the idea hit her, "I just might have the perfect story." It _technically_ fit the criteria.

The words recaptured their interest – all except for Beth – and she settled in to the couch, crossing her legs as she cleared her throat, "Once upon a time, just before midsummer –"

"When's midsummer?" Liz asks.

Rachel was grateful for the performance she'd done of _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ in college, as some of the background information had stuck with her, "It's, um, in June." Okay, maybe the background information hadn't stuck with her as much as she liked to believe. But the kids didn't question it, and she continued, "Two girls –"

This time it was James who stopped her, "What are their names?"

Rachel caught herself before she said their actual names, and ran her tongue over her lip before she frowned, "Their names? Um, their names are…" the imagery flashed into her mind, making her smile, "Goldilocks and Tinkerbell."

Beth snorted, and Rachel reached out to squeeze her foot lightly in retribution, "As I was saying: that summer was a summer for Goldilocks and Tinkerbell to discover themselves. And, it turned out, each other…"

* * *

Lima really hadn't changed at all in two years. Not that Rachel really thought that it would, exactly, but she was used to New York now. And sometimes it felt like New York City could change on a dime.

Being back for the summer really hadn't been something she'd planned on. Contrary to _some people's_ – her dad's – beliefs, the summer between sophomore and junior year could be crucial. It wasn't like she was dramatic enough – anymore – to believe that not being in New York for the summer would make or break her career, but she'd had it all figured out.

The plan was going to be to stay in the city with Kurt at their apartment, work in the café down the street that she'd gotten a job at last summer, and perform in the summer production at NYADA.

And yet, here she was, back in Ohio. Her plan of leaving Lima after graduation and never looking back had only panned out for such a short amount of time. High school was something she was ready to leave behind: an ex-boyfriend who she'd had a messy breakup with, a glee club half full of football players that she didn't get along with that had nearly ruined her chance at winning Nationals, and a handful of bullies she wouldn't blink at twice on the street.

However, there had been one very specific event that served as the catalyst that led to her return: her fathers were _moving_ , and perhaps she didn't care much for Lima itself, but she had extremely fond memories in her childhood home. Plus this was time for her to clean out all of her belongings for good. She had much of what she would be keeping from her adolescent room already at her apartment, but she didn't want to overlook anything.

Besides, ever since she'd made her decision to return, she'd realized that this summer could be cathartic for her. The new plan was to use this time to let go of Lima and the past for good.

Not that she was really holding on to much from those days – aside from her dads and Kurt – and Blaine by proxy of Kurt. But… there was one thing here that she had to resolve, a little more.

And that one thing was Shelby, who moved to Lima in the last year. About four months ago, to be precise. Shelby Corcoran. Her mom. Her birth mother, she mentally corrected, though she didn't really know why. It's not like anyone else was in her head to hear her thoughts.

She hadn't seen Shelby in nearly five years and then out of the blue, she'd received a letter from her, saying that she would like to give their relationship another chance, if Rachel wanted to. She'd put the letter away in her desk in uncertainty, and tried her best to forget about it. That time in sophomore year with Shelby had been one of the _worst_ times in her life, and she wasn't keen on reliving any of it.

But then her fathers told her about the move and leaving her childhood home and town. And that letter in her drawer was calling out to her, louder and louder, until she couldn't ignore it anymore. She broke, and now she was here.

Here. Right outside of Shelby's house. Or, what she presumed to be Shelby's house, given the return address on the envelope. She really probably should have called first. In fact, maybe it would be better if she left now, then called to set up an appointment.

Her hand was already hovering over the key in the ignition before she dropped it to her thigh and stroked down the fabric of her skirt. No. She was already here, and she wasn't going to leave without just… doing it.

With a deep breath, she shut the car off and stepped into the hot summer air, eyes narrowed against the sunlight. It was pretty, she thought. Tidy. A nice suburban home. She really had no idea what to expect when it came to Shelby – what her style was, what kind of home she would want to live in.

She shook her shoulders out as she made her way up the well-groomed walkway, murmuring to herself, "You can do this, Rachel. This is just one person, and you are bound to dazzle thousands."

And that was the absolute truth, "Shelby cutting ties was her loss. And now she knows it."

Okay, that was definitely the truth, and it gave her exactly the boost she needed to lift her hand and knock at the front door. The butterflies that she wasn't used to feeling fluttered in her stomach for a few seconds, as she waited.

And waited.

Nearly a minute later, she bit her lip and knocked again. The butterflies slowly died as confusion took over – there was most definitely a car right there in the driveway. If Shelby had _seen_ her and now purposefully wasn't answering the door…

Well, Rachel was glad that she'd been taught much better manners than that.

Maybe it wasn't the right address? Taking a step back to double check the house number just confirmed what she already knew – definitely the right address. Her stomach was sinking and she couldn't tell if she was feeling just let down or irritated or something more – likely a combination.

A deep frown set into her features, and she stepped back once more, albeit reluctantly. As much as she hated to admit it, it had taken her a little bit of time to work up the courage to come here today. It was the first week of June, she'd been in Lima for a week already, and in this morning alone, she'd procrastinated more than she cared to say.

She'd woken up early enough to go for a run, make herself and her dads breakfast, _and_ call Kurt to have an in-depth discussion about the cute boy who had taken over for her at the café and his chances on being interested in men. Rachel, personally, found that the odds were unfavorable, though Kurt disagreed. Not that it mattered, when he was dating Blaine.

Her arms crossed over her chest and she sighed and stepped off of the small porch. Perhaps this was a sign. A sign that –

Hold on.

There were several abilities Rachel prided herself on. Flawless tone and pitch were first, naturally, but she also had impeccable hearing. And she was positive that she could hear _someone_ saying… something.

Curious, she walked toward the side of the house, and – aha! She _knew_ she'd heard it. Perhaps that was why Shelby hadn't answered the door? Because she'd been outside and didn't hear her knocking?

The thought was a slight comfort, and she debated following it for only a moment before curiosity got the better of her, and she started walking around to the back of the house. And the closer she got, the more she could make out the actual words being said.

"Come on… come on," the words were low and whispered, and she commended herself for hearing it from the front of the house.

She already had a strange feeling about this, even before she peeked around the side of the house. And then positively gaped, because the person fiddling with the back door was most definitely _not_ Shelby.

She might not have seen her birth mother in over four years, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she did not have that petite build and blonde hair. Her eyebrows drew together as her mouth fell open in shock as it dawned on her; someone was breaking into the house!

In _broad daylight_!

And this was her – well, her birth mother's house!

Quickly, keeping a watchful eye on the back of the intruder, she reached for her phone. Despite having already unlocked it and pulled up the dial pad, she hesitated before she completed the 911 call. _Should_ she call the police? Dark eyes flitted between her phone and the woman who appeared to be well on her way breaking into the home.

Though crime in Lima was very low, Rachel knew from experience – the time someone had spray painted her house and her dads called to report a hate crime – that the police force was certainly not on their toes.

Rachel took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders for good measure; she knew what she had to do. She would be remiss to say that she was a young woman who lived in New York City and had no measure by which to defend herself. After reading about a series of muggings in their area a few months after moving to the city, she and Kurt had taken a handful of self-defense classes.

She just never thought she would have to put them to use in Lima instead of New York.

With measuring, critiquing eyes, she took in the person breaking into the home. A slim woman, a little taller than herself, who didn't look overtly muscular. She could handle her; after all, she'd once read that as soon as you fought back against – okay, in the article she'd read, it was about a mugger and not an intruder, but they didn't seem all that different – they would run away.

For good measure, she actually dialed 911 and left the called screen up and ready to actually be called, before quietly and gently crouching to put her phone against the house. Far away enough to not be damaged in any sort of altercation, but close enough that she could probably get to it if things got out of hand. Just in case.

Giving herself a quick mental pep-talk, she narrowed her eyes in determination. And with a running leap – the likes of which a ninja just might be proud of – she jumped onto the back of the woman.

And because of the angle the blonde had been standing at, Rachel had a close-up view of the way her head slammed into the doorframe. She almost grimaced in sympathy for a second before she remembered that she shouldn't feel badly for hurting a robber.

But the blonde didn't go down, instead, she wobbled on her feet, and the movements almost knocked Rachel off of her back. Before she could let herself panic, her mind raced through the self-defense steps she'd been taught. What was supposed to happen now?! She'd just have to wing it.

She grasped at the blonde's arm, and tried to twist it behind her back. This was more of a move from cop shows, but it seemed to work on television. But even when she had her hand wrapped around a smooth wrist, the burglar wasn't going down easily.

In fact, it was the opposite of easily, and Rachel was struggling to hold her in place as she panted out, "Just stay where you are," in the most authoritative tone of voice she could muster when she was struggling to detain a criminal.

Unfortunately, it didn't deter the woman she was trying to hold down – who was surprisingly strong and crafty, and she got back a grunted out, "What the fuck?"

The register of her voice rang a distantly familiar bell in the back of Rachel's mind, and she blamed that split second of her losing her focus as the reason why she was able to be thrown off of the blonde's back. Unfortunately for the intruder in question, the move also threw her off balance, and they both went down.

Luckily for Rachel, the majority of her fall was braced on the other woman, and despite the pain in her knees upon impacting with the ground, she felt triumphant. But just because the blonde was face-down on the ground didn't mean she was giving up, and she wiggled and shifted under her.

Rachel bit her lip and darted her eyes toward her phone. She definitely couldn't reach it from here. She should have kept it on her, because this was becoming much more difficult than she'd imagined, "This will go a lot easier if you just give up!"

 _A lot easier for me_.

A very shapely butt bucked up underneath her high enough to make _contact_ and Rachel yelped, because a skirt might not have been the best thing to wear for this endeavor, as she had her legs on either side of the woman.

But maybe that was all a part of the girl's plan, because in the few moments that she was thrown off, she felt the body under hers roll over, the blonde finagling her way onto her back. _Crap_ , Rachel knew that this was not a good sign.

What had she been doing during the self-defense classes that distracted her from the next step? As quickly as she could, she did the first thing that came to mind, which was to reach out and wrap her hands around slim wrists again, holding them to the ground.

Until the hips under hers bucked again between her thighs in an attempt to throw her off, as that voice spoke again, "Seriously, what the hell?"

Rachel could have sworn that voice was ringing bells in her head, and it was for that reason that she took her eyes off of her phone and she looked down at the woman she'd taken down. The woman whose arms she had pinned as she panted over her with exertion as she regretted not calling the police – though how could she have known this thief would have such a fighting spirit?

The woman who, she could tell as soon as her eyes focused, was… "Quinn? Quinn Fabray?" she could hear how incredulous her own tone was.

Her stomach nearly bottomed out in _shock_ , and her grip went slack with it, but she barely even realized because she was simply dumbfounded. For a few seconds, she was convinced that she must have been mistaken.

But that thought disappeared almost as quickly as it came, because there was literally no way to mistake that face. A face she hadn't seen in two years, but she'd been very familiar with it in high school.

The blonde hair that had so often been pulled back into a strict ponytail now was down and was fanned out over the ground like a halo, and cheekbones that Rachel swore could cut glass, and those golden green eyes that she realized were now burning up at her – it all culminated into this gorgeous package.

A gorgeous package that had made Rachel's adolescence less than pleasant, but was undeniably attractive either way. She'd always thought so.

But damn her surprise! It threw her off; made it too easy for Quinn to one-up her and before she even knew what was going on, Rachel was on her back. The former cheerleader's weight was settled snugly over her hips, hazel eyes burning with fury as she reversed their positions entirely and held Rachel's hands down. Her breaths were ragged, leaving her chest heaving, and Rachel could see the exact moment that realization dawned in those eyes, " _Berry_?"

Rachel didn't even struggle anymore; sometimes it was best to know when you've been beaten. Especially when you had a clearly leanly muscled ex-athlete straddling you, even though Rachel was pretty sure that she could have taken her if she hadn't been so surprised.

And on that note, her gaze darted back to the door Quinn had been trying to break open and then back to that beautiful but furious face. Confusion trickled in – and maybe a _smidge_ of curiosity – as she tilted her head, "I never would have thought that _you_ would have resorted to a life of petty crime since high school."

She hadn't seen Quinn since graduation, and she hadn't heard anything about her, either. Which wasn't surprising, given the fact that their relationship consisted primarily of Quinn slushy-ing her, drawing pornographic pictures of her, and insulting her femininity in their early days. The pre-pregnancy days, as Rachel thought of them.

Then when Quinn had reclaimed her Head Cheerio status the following year, she'd been much more lax on the bullying, but their relationship still wasn't what Rachel would classify as anything resembling a friendship.

Quinn's eyes narrowed dangerously at her comment – it might have been years, but Rachel recognized that look, and it still made her squirm a little. Or attempt to, because was found with a shiver that she was kind of held down between the blonde's thighs. She vaguely wondered if it was all of the exercise of being a Cheerio in her youth that made her legs this strong, or if she'd kept up on her workout regimen since.

Though, if Quinn was going to be robbing houses, Rachel supposed she would need her strength.

The effect Quinn's glare had on her was marginally different now than it used to be, though, because she is no longer fourteen or a "loser." Okay, _some_ of the effects were still the same. But not the ones where she felt any bit intimidated.

Quinn's shrewd eyes hadn't left her face as she demanded again, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Okay, Quinn might have had her pinned, but Rachel didn't see the need for that tone, especially when she was clearly the one who had been doing the right thing! She glared right back, "What do you think _you're_ doing?"

"I asked you first," Quinn challenged with a damnably perfect eyebrow lift.

Rachel rolled her eyes at the logic and inwardly mocked it before answering the obvious, "I was stopping you from breaking and entering into a home!"

But rather than give her the explanation she was waiting for, Quinn's glare slowly fell away and she was just _staring_ down at Rachel with an expression she couldn't place, but she knew that there was amusement in there, "Oh, was _that_ what that was?"

"It worked, didn't it?" she tilted her chin up superiorly and matched Quinn's stare with her own. She wouldn't be cowed by the blonde years ago, and she certainly wasn't going to back down now.

Then the hands that were around her wrists tightened momentarily, as Quinn all but growled out, "Who came out on top, Berry?"

The words sent a surprising shiver through her, as did the grip of the blonde's hands. It wasn't tight enough to hurt, but it certainly was a power move. A move that let Rachel know who was in charge here, and that it most certainly wasn't her.

She swallowed thickly at the thrill that shot through her and settled in the pit of her stomach, and dark eyes widened. Not that she should be so surprised – Quinn was the prettiest girl she'd ever met, and that hadn't changed a bit.

She tracked her gaze up to meet Quinn's once more, as she cleared her throat, "Well, it appears that you have _come out on top_. But be that as it may, I also managed to stop you from breaking and entering," she pointed out as a triumphant smile once again returned to tilt up the corners of her mouth.

Besting Quinn in a verbal spar had always been something that had made her feel like she was on the top of the moon, and apparently that hadn't changed, either.

The blonde huffed out a breath and shook her head before she grimaced. And Rachel could tell that she was on the verge of saying something –

"What in the _world_ is going on here?"

Which definitely wasn't Quinn's voice, and both Rachel and the girl on top of her jumped at the sound of it. She turned towards Shelby, who was standing a few feet away with a bag of groceries dangling from her wrist.

Rachel had somehow in the last ten minutes completely forgotten about where she was and the whole reason she was here. The reason who was now standing on front of her – in front of them – and staring with wide, questioning eyes.

The moment she'd been in was long gone, as that nervous feeling that had earlier dissipated came rushing back in full force.

Shelby's arrival also seemed to force Quinn to attention, as she quickly pushed herself up and away from Rachel. She feebly brushed herself off, before shakily reaching out to brace a hand on the door, her face looking pale.

And to Rachel's compounding surprise, it was Quinn who answered her birth mother, "I was trying to um-jam the lock on the door that you'd mentioned before you left, when _she_ appeared out of nowhere and tried to tackle me." Quinn jerked her head toward Rachel, but then hissed in pain and pressed a hand to her forehead, eyes closing.

When Shelby's concerned and confused eyes tracked back to Rachel, she felt herself flush. For several reasons, really. She'd showed up without any announcement, attempted to – and practically succeeded to – beat up Quinn who for some strange twist of cruel fate was also here and knew Shelby, and for the first time in five years was found by her birth mother, pinned to the ground by an injured, angry ex-cheerleader.

She was still on the ground as she looked up to meet Shelby's eyes, her own similarly wide, and her heart just pounded. Honestly, she wasn't entirely sure she was going to be sick. The first time she'd seen Shelby, she had been fifteen, and it had felt startlingly similar to this. In a bad way.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself up. She wasn't fifteen anymore, she reminded herself, and offered Shelby a tentative wave, after she smoothed out her skirt, "Hello."

It offered her a small comfort to see that the older woman looked similarly stunned at the turn of events. She breathed out, "Rachel," as her eyebrows drew together in confusion before she snapped back to look at Quinn, "Where's Beth?"

Quinn opened her eyes again, though she still leaned a bit on the doorframe, as she gestured right in through the back slider, "She's napping. Right there, in the living room. She's not – I didn't leave her alone," her words came out as a promise. A quiet, serious tone as she regarded Shelby.

It wasn't a tone she thought she'd ever heard from Quinn before, and she thought she might have been more interested in it – if it wasn't happening at _this_ particular moment.

Shelby didn't share any of her confusion, though, as she accepted Quinn's words with a nod, before her eyes darted up to the blonde's forehead, which was rapidly starting to bruise, "Why don't we move this into the house? Quinn, you look like you could use some ice for your head."

Quinn's eyes were narrowed, in pain or confusion Rachel didn't know, but she nodded briefly and opened the door. Which Rachel sighed at because clearly Quinn hadn't been breaking in. The door had never really been keeping her out.

Shelby walked by her, pausing for a moment, before she followed the blonde inside and left the door ajar for Rachel to follow. Rachel wasn't _entirely_ sure she wanted to follow. Actually, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she didn't want to.

She didn't know who "Beth" was, this entire reunion was already an utter disaster, and frankly, she thought that her efforts would be better spent at home, helping her dad pack up the basement. Organizing some boxes right now might make her feel better, at any rate.

Regardless of the summation of reasons why it would be better for her to leave, her feet didn't seem to get the memo, and as soon as she grabbed her phone, she was following them inside, gently closing the slider behind her.

Shelby was not in view, and Rachel wasn't going to traipse through her home to find her, so she stood still, just inside the living room, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked around, and then paused upon making eye contact with Quinn.

The blonde was sitting on the couch, her cheeks pale, which made the bruised lump Rachel had caused stand out starkly, but her eyes were open as she regarded Rachel with a look she didn't quite know how to decipher.

And it wasn't until then that Rachel noticed a sleeping toddler on the couch. When did a toddler become a child? Maybe this was a young child. Rachel didn't know; the most interaction she'd had with children was when she'd help babysit her newborn cousin, years ago. Regardless, the sleeping girl was nestled in a blanket to ward off the air conditioning.

She had dark blonde curls and a cute little face, and Rachel presumed that this toddler child was Beth, but she was confused as to what was even happening. Until she took a moment to really look around the room to see _signs_.

Like the coloring pictures and crayons on the table, and the neat stack of kids movies next to the television, and the amount of little shoes in the shoe rack – the signs that a child lived here.

Lived here, with Shelby. It took a few long moments for it to really dawn on her that this was Shelby's _child_. A child that she hadn't had when she'd told Rachel she didn't want to be in her life, but had clearly gotten sometimes soon after, and _wow_ , that really _hurt_.

She sucked in a breath and curled her hands into loose fists to try and stave off that feeling like her heart was about to start aching, and forced herself to look back at Quinn.

Maybe they were never _friends_ and maybe she had just beat her up outside, but Quinn was the only thing in this room that was at all familiar. And her bemusement returned when she saw that Quinn was no longer looking at her, but was instead looking at the little girl.

Rachel's memory was fabulous, and she couldn't forget the nine months that Quinn had been pregnant in high school. And she knew – like everyone else at McKinley because it was common knowledge and not because she was overly interested in information about Quinn Fabray, as Kurt used to like to say she was – that Quinn had given the baby up for adoption.

And the girl's age looked like it would be about right. Her eyes widened in recognition as everything clicked together and… this afternoon was turning into some bizarre horror movie! She was now entirely certain that she shouldn't have stayed. Or even come.

"Why do you look like you're about to be sick when I'm the one who most likely has a concussion?" Quinn asked, her voice low, as to not wake up _Beth_.

Rachel looked back at Quinn, and once again, the familiar face – despite the overload of information that was making her feel slightly sick – calmed her a little bit, even as she exhaled an irritated breath, "I thought you were a criminal!"

Quinn nailed her with a look as she drawled, "So _obviously_ the first thing you choose to do is attack me with some _really_ great moves."

Insulted, her mouth fell open, "They worked, didn't they? You can argue it all you want, but only one of us is injured here."

The words came out before she could really think about it, and then she frowned. She wasn't _actually_ proud of injuring Quinn. Now that she knew who she was and that she wasn't a thief, of course.

But she supposed it worked with her argument.

That eyebrow lifted again, "I could have injured _you_ , Berry, even after you attacked me. But I chose not to. You should probably thank me for my restraint."

"I think you have a problem accepting defeat," the years old observation slipped out with a nodded. Head cheerleader, most popular girl in school – and she certainly hadn't taken kindly to the idea of Rachel dating her ex-boyfriend.

Quinn scoffed, "Defeat? You jumped on my back like some sort of tiny tots monkey wrestler, and you were still on your back in the end."

The phrasing gave Rachel a second of pause, and then the clearing of a throat from the doorway got both of their attention. Shelby walked in slowly, handing Quinn an ice pack – one that Rachel noted was shaped like a cartoon whale, farther confirmation that this Beth lived here – before she paused and looked back and forth between them.

Shelby cracked an extremely cautious smile, and Rachel could see the unease in the edges because she felt like she'd seen the same thing in her own smiles a time or two in the mirror, "I guess it looks like you two know each other."

Even though the comment was light, it didn't make either Rachel or Quinn crack a smile. Quinn, at the very least, murmured, "Yeah…"

After a few moments of trying to process, Rachel cleared her throat, "Quinn and I went to high school together."

Which she assumed Shelby should know, considering it appeared she'd _adopted Quinn's daughter_. But more than Rachel wanted answers and the entire detailed story, she wanted to make her exit.

She wondered if Shelby could read her mind, because as soon as she opened her mouth to speak, her birth mother's gaze flitted to the still-sleeping girl and then back to her, "Rachel, can I talk to you? In the kitchen," she tilted her head back.

And without waiting for a response, she walked back through the doorway. Rachel met Quinn's questioning gaze momentarily before following. She was met with the view of Shelby standing in front of a kitchen counter, with her hands interlocked in front of her, and a pleading look on her face. As soon as she saw Rachel, she took a deep breath, "Rachel, I – I have no idea you were coming. This… it's not how I wanted this all to go. I had this plan of how I was going to tell you about Beth and an idea of how you could meet her. It's just that you never answered my letter or called, so I didn't –"

The reality of it all crashed down on her _again_ , standing here in Shelby's kitchen while her daughter napped in the next room, and Rachel was unsure if she was going to give in to the nausea in her stomach as she shook her head, "I think I should just go."

It was probably for the best; she had a lot to do, and not _just_ packing. She had an audition to prepare for, after all, and Rachel knew better than anyone that you could never be too prepared.

She'd only taken a step before Shelby reached out and touched her arm. Only for a second, before her hand dropped, "Rachel, wait –"

The words only served to spur her onward, and she walked backwards through the door, doing her best to look apologetic. It wasn't very hard; she was sorry she came, "No, I – it's a bad time. I should have called first."

Honestly, what had she been thinking, just showing up like this? She'd given up on random surprise visits to most people years ago – unless there was good reason, of course. But there was no good reason for this one. She _really_ should have called.

"You don't have to always call," Shelby said with a sigh from behind her, but Rachel was already back in the living room and heading towards the door she'd entered from, only giving a quick look at the couch.

Quinn was laying back with a grimace, her eyes closed, and the ice pack held to her forehead. Which served for a nice helping of guilt to tack on to this afternoon, and she contemplated saying anything. But the, "Goodbye, Quinn," that slipped out just happened, really.

Hazel eyes flipped open, somewhat blearily, and Shelby stepped forward, slipping around Rachel, as she walked over to where Quinn and Beth were, "Actually, Rachel, I was thinking that maybe you could give Quinn a ride home? I'd hate for her to be driving with her head like this."

For a few moments, silence beat between them, as she looked between Shelby and Quinn. The latter of whom was also staring at Shelby, as if she was wondering why she'd even spoken.

She wasn't terribly excited about the idea – in the twenty minutes that she'd been "reunited" with Quinn, she'd possibly concussed her and discovered that the web that connected their lives went beyond petty insults and ex-boyfriends, and not in a way that Rachel was even sure she wanted to know more about.

But, all of that aside, Quinn was looking fairly unwell. She'd always had a fair complexion, but in a delicate, unblemished, peaches-and-cream kind of way. That pallor wasn't natural. And regardless of whether Quinn reverted back to her old ways of insulting her or not, Rachel refused to be responsible for an injury that perhaps led to Quinn getting into a car accident and harming herself or others.

Fixing a small smile on her face, she nodded, "Um, sure. Of course." _As long as we can leave_ _as soon as possible_ , she added silently.

But Quinn was slowly shaking her head, "No, I'll drive myself. I'll be fine to stay here to say goodbye to Beth when she wakes up."

Shelby hesitated, before she shook her head, "Please, I would feel my more comfortable if you picked up your car tomorrow. And Beth and I have to get ready to go to my parents' house for dinner, anyway. We can wake her up now."

"I, too, would feel more comfortable with you off of the roads," Rachel added, causing them both to look at her, Quinn with narrowed eyes.

She relented with a sigh, "I guess that might be for the best," she acknowledged, before looking back to the sleeping girl as Shelby looked at her.

And Rachel really did not want to witness any of what was going to follow, so she reached for the door handle, "I'll meet you in my car. It's the black Subaru Legacy –"

"I'm sure I'll be able to manage, Berry," Quinn told her, voice dry.

"I was merely trying to help," she informed her, before switching her gaze back to Shelby, and she was unsure of what to say.

Thankfully, her birth mother spoke first, "I hope I'll see you again soon."

As Rachel was not in the habit of making promises she wasn't positive she'd be keeping, she didn't comment on that, "Have a nice dinner."

With that, she escaped into the fresh air and breathed a sigh of relief. The humid air was more of a relief than the air conditioning for once. But she didn't wait before going back to the car, and she briefly wondered how long she would be waiting. Quinn didn't seem very interested in leaving – or maybe she just hadn't been interested in leaving with _her_.

But within a few minutes, Quinn exited – through the front door – and made her way toward Rachel's car, eyes narrowed against the sun and walking a little slowly.

She started to drive as soon as Quinn was buckled in, and she for once didn't mind the silence in the car, as she was mostly still reeling from the events that had just taken place.

And that feeling lasted for only a few minutes – the silence not bothering her, not the processing the afternoon aspect; _that_ was most likely going to take a little while – before she started shooting Quinn glances from the corner of her eye.

If today was from an alternate reality, she would have been less surprised. Because it all felt crazily unreal. Everything at Shelby's house, and she would be lying if she said that having Quinn Fabray here in her car wasn't the icing on the craziness of it all.

Quinn, who remained seated with her head tilted back and her mouth set in a firm line. She hadn't looked pleased upon leaving Shelby's, and Rachel didn't think it was simply because of her head injury. Though, she couldn't say for sure.

Unable to help herself, she cleared her throat, "So, Beth is…" and she nearly held her breath as she waited for confirmation.

"My daughter," Quinn informed her after a few seconds of pause, and really she just sounded _tired_. Those eyes slotted open, enough so that Rachel could see the questioning look she was receiving, "And Shelby's your mom?"

Her mouth opened but just a breath came out as her stomach twisted unpleasantly, "Birth mother, yes." Quinn accepted her words with a slight nod, before she gingerly rested her head back again. And Rachel took a second to observe her again.

Quinn Fabray, sitting in her car. Not in a Cheerios uniform. What kind of coincidence was that? She didn't like to think of herself to let moments pass her by, so she shook her head slightly to clear it before asking lightly, "So if you _haven't_ been leading a life of crime since high school, what have you been up to?"

"No offense, but my head is kind of killing me, and talking doesn't help," Quinn murmured and hissed out a breath.

Rachel rolled her eyes, before she realized – _no offense_? If she wasn't driving, she might have positively gaped at the blonde. Okay, maybe the tiny tot monkey wrestler comment hadn't been exactly nice earlier, but she'd never heard a "no offense" from Quinn before, either. She was almost even _more_ curious about what Quinn had been up to now.

Alas, she acquiesced. It wasn't like the silence lasted for much longer, anyway. This _was_ Lima, and she pulled up in front of Quinn's house within minutes, "Assuming your family still lives here… we're here."

The blonde opened her eyes, and peered out the window up at the imposing house before back at Rachel and giving her that curious look again, "How did you know where I lived?"

She felt herself blush for a moment – because maybe she _had_ had a bit of a fascination with Quinn in high school, something she hadn't even really understood or acknowledged until looking back into her memories from months after graduation – before she settled on, "Well, you _were_ the most popular girl in school. A lot of people knew where you lived."

Quinn just hummed in response, a flippant sound before she let out a small groan and sat up, "Thanks for the ride."

"It wasn't a problem," and it really wasn't; not only was she guilty for causing the painful looking lump on her head, but Quinn's house was less than a ten minute drive from her own.

She looked beyond Quinn to see up the long walkway to the front door, before turning back to the blonde who had just opened the door, "Do you… need any help?"

She didn't have much – any – medical experience, but she knew that if one had a concussion, they shouldn't be left alone for very long. Right? Maybe she should have offered to take her to the hospital?

Of course she should have! What had she been thinking?

But Quinn climbed – albeit sluggishly – out of the car before giving her a sardonic look, "I've made it up my walkway a few times before."

"Probably not with –" the door shut, and Rachel blew out a breath before she finished, "A possible concussion."

She didn't intend to leave until Quinn made it safely to the front door, as any civilized person with manners did in this day and age. It might have been the early evening and the sun was still shining brightly, but one never knew what could happen.

And though Quinn indubitably had walked up the walkway to her house thousands of times before, she was certainly moving slowly this time. Dark eyes narrowed in consideration, and as soon as she watched Quinn shift slightly off to the side, her decision was made for her, and she quickly released her seatbelt and hurried up the walkway, walking a few paces behind the blonde.

Close, but not touching, with her arms up and ready to catch Quinn in the case of her fainting. Did people with a concussion faint? It was a head injury, so she figured it couldn't be too off-base. She was careful not to touch, though, because she didn't think it would be very welcomed.

She was fairly certain that she was doing decently undetected job for a few moments. That was, until Quinn commented without pausing or turning about, "You assault me, and then stalk me up to my house, and you think _I'm_ the criminal out of the two of us?"

"I'm merely trying to assist you! Imagine if I just drove off to leave you here, and you fall face-down in your front yard. Hardly stalking," she now crossed her arms with a huff, but continued to walk Quinn up to the porch.

She wondered if there had been a teasing tone in the blonde's voice, before shaking it off. Even if it was the case, it didn't matter.

As they drew closer, she offered, "Would you like me to go in with you?" She figured she owed it to her, especially because this really hadn't been as unpleasant an encounter as it could have been. _Would_ have been, if it had happened a few years ago.

"I didn't even ask you to walk me this far," Quinn countered. There was no bite in it, though; it was definitely amused.

But before she actually gave Rachel an answer – because to her, that sounded like an invitation – the front door opened and an older blonde woman stepped out, concern written all over her face. Quinn's mom, she assumed, so she sighed lightly and stepped back.

Though she did watch in amusement as the woman came in close to Quinn, running her fingers lightly over the bruise on Quinn's forehead, which made her daughter scowl and pull back before murmuring, "I'm fine, mom."

Her mother turned to look at Rachel as she ushered Quinn into the house, "Thank you for driving her home."

With a small smile, she just nodded, "Of course." And she figured she wouldn't get a warm look from the older woman if she knew that Rachel herself had been the cause of the head injury, so she thought now would be a good time to take a dignified leave as a good Samaritan.

She turned her gaze to Quinn, who she was surprised to see was already watching her. Running her eyes over the blonde quickly, because for all she knew this might be her last interaction with Quinn, she met her gaze. Somehow, it still managed to be intense despite the head wound.

"Despite the entirely unexpected circumstances, it was nice to see you, Quinn."

Quinn stared her down for a few seconds before she husked out, " _Nice_ to see you, too," and disappeared into her house.

When she reached her car, she dropped her head onto the steering wheel for a few seconds. Nice to see you? Why would she say that, when it translated to _I'm glad I attacked you_? Regardless, she didn't think it would matter what she said to Quinn at that point, and she picked her head back up, shaking her hair back.

Today had been entirely too eventful, she decided.

* * *

"Wait a second!" Alex interjected, before whining, "How does _Tinkerbell_ even beat up Goldilocks? She's tiny!"

Rachel narrowed her eyes, but Liz beat her to answer, "Because she's _magic_ , idiot."

She paused to consider that – it was probably a better answer than she was going to come up with, "You shouldn't call people idiots." And she waited for a second before adding, "But yes, Tinkerbell has a few tricks up her sleeve."

"So that's the fight," James pointed out from where he was now kneeling next to her feet, toying with the corner of a throw pillow, "I wanted a story with music," he pouts.

Reaching down slightly, she ran a hand over his head, "We're getting to that. _Now_ , in fact. Are we all ready to continue?"

She got three eager nods – and a brief look from Beth over her phone – which made her grin. This storytelling thing wasn't so hard after all; she was kind of getting into it herself.

* * *

A couple of days later, Rachel was back in her car. Unlike the last time, though, now she was nothing but confident. Because she was parked outside of the Lima Community Theatre, and she was about to audition for their summer production.

It was going to be _Jekyll & Hyde_ this year, which she admittedly wasn't overly familiar with. She, of course, had the soundtrack and knew the general plot but it was no _Funny Girl_ or _Wicked_. It would have been marginally better if it _was_ one of those shows, but she had no control of the matter.

"I'm just saying that I can't believe you chose to go back to Ohio to do a show in the _Lima Community Theatre_ ," Kurt said through the phone, uttering the words as if they held a disease, though she couldn't blame him, "When you could have stayed here for the summer. NYADA's summer show is _Anything Goes_ , Rachel! You would have been a shoe-in for Reno Sweeney, and not just because a lot of the upperclassmen went home for the summer."

How insulting, "Thank you for _that_."

"I said _not_ just because they aren't here!"

She sighed, "It's not like I would really rather be here, either, Kurt. And thank you for reminding me of what I'm missing."

His sigh mirrored her own, "I know. And I know you wanted to have the summer in your house before your dads moved. I don't blame you."

He might have been missing some of the components as to why she was here, but regardless. The only good thing that was coming from this production – aside from the fact that it would keep her busy and give her somewhere to express her knowledge of theatre – was that she'd learned from her advisor she might be able to get some credit for her next semester's performance class.

Kurt continued, "And you know I'm going to come see you in it. So, good luck. I have to get back to my shift."

She tucked her phone away after putting it on silent, this was an audition space after all, before she walked in and put her name on the sign-in sheet, before scanning the area. Auditions had only started ten minutes ago – she'd arrived right afterwards, but had been detained by her conversation with Kurt – but they were already underway.

Walking farther into the seating area, she looked around to try to find a nice, semi-secluded area to read over her monologue. Not that she really needed to; she'd been auditioning for every musical at NYADA for the past two years, as well as a few minor roles in actual shows. Nothing that was a big deal or anything, but she'd done fairly well for herself, and that was in _New York_. Where the lights of Broadway cast shadows.

And this… was Lima. Rachel had considered herself to be the most talented person here when she was in high school, and she'd only gotten better since.

She started to make her way to a cluster of seats that was far away from everything enough so that she would be able to concentrate, but had a good view of the stage. She might not be nervous but it never hurt to scout out the competition.

Not that there appeared to be that much of it, if the people milling around were any indication. She narrowed her eyes as she looked around the darkened theatre, and then got caught on a head of blonde hair, and she paused.

It – it _probably_ wasn't her, right? But the cut was the same just past shoulder length, and it was that same shade of blonde hair…

She moved quietly to investigate, and as she drew nearer – close enough to see the profile – she realized that it _was_ her! Though there was undoubtedly no one who had the same flawless, classic features, there was also a slight bump on her head still.

Quinn Fabray was popping up all over the place, it seemed.

Still, she told herself, she should probably go sit down and get into the zone for her audition. Quinn being here didn't change anything.

She got about two steps away before she turned around, because she just _couldn't_ go sit down by herself, when Quinn sitting right there. Right in the center of the seating area. What were the odds?

And she had never had more than a handful of actual conversations with Quinn in the four years they'd been in close proximity with each other that didn't include some variation of "man-hands" or "stubbles" but she couldn't help but notice that even after she'd effectively beat Quinn up, the blonde had refrained from using those petty insults. It was intriguing, at the very least.

Plus, Rachel _had_ given Quinn a head injury, and she did feel guilty still. It wasn't like she had Quinn's number to call and check in on her. And even if she did, it wasn't like Quinn would even _want_ her to call and check in. But it was her duty, right?

Okay, and maybe she was a _little_ curious as to what Quinn was even doing here.

As inconspicuously as possible, she walked up the aisle next to where Quinn was seated, and tried to peer over her shoulder. But all she could see was a notebook filled with notations, and that Quinn was tapping a pen lightly against the edge of the page as she mouthed along the words with whomever was doing a monologue onstage.

And even in the dimmed lighting with her features all distracted, that face was flawless. It really shouldn't be fair, "Are you auditioning?"

Crap. The words fell out of her mouth before she could even realize it, and Quinn froze, her pen pausing mid-tap – before she turned to face Rachel, eyebrow lifted already. Hazel eyes ran down her body and back up and Rachel felt a rush go through her before she realized that Quinn was most likely appraising her apparel.

Thank god she'd learned how to dress more fashionably.

But she simply crossed her arms and tilted her head, meeting Quinn's gaze when it got to hers, because she was far too unashamed to apologize for her blatant curiosity.

Quinn eventually sighed and bit at her bottom lip before releasing it to say, "I should have guessed you'd be here."

And she nodded, "You probably should have; this is my area of expertise." And she stepped closer as her face scrunched together and belayed the confusion she was feeling, "But I certainly didn't think _you_ would be here."

Quinn tapped her pen one last time before she slid it down the page, and took a breath – that Rachel was waiting for her to expel to explain herself. And then, she didn't. Instead, she turned back to the stage, but it didn't stop Rachel from staring at her.

She just didn't understand. Quinn used to mock her and many of the other glee kids, and had never once tried out for any performances. It didn't add…

Her train of thought was interrupted when Quinn turned a bit back to the stage, and she grimaced as the guilt started to seep in. Though her complexion was back to normal now, there were bruises on Quinn's cheek and jaw, though they were barely noticeable because apparently and unsurprisingly, the blonde was a master with a makeup brush. But there was only so much hiding she could do for the lump on her forehead.

And, somehow, with the way she'd done her hair and the headband adjusted just so, it actually _did_ hide it as much as possible.

She shuffled even closer to get a better view of the damage she'd done, as her stomach sank slightly, and she whispered, "How is your head?" She caught herself before she could reach out to touch like she'd just been about to do, "I apologize. Again."

But Quinn didn't sound like she was holding onto residual anger when she shook her head, "I'll live. It's fine, Berry," her voice was kept low as she eyed Rachel once more. And then she turned back to the woman on the stage, who announced that she was going to be moving on to the singing portion of her audition, which seemed to nap Quinn's attention.

Hazel eyes turned to look at the stage as she murmured to Rachel, "I have to listen to this."

Rachel nodded – hadn't she just thought about the importance of knowing one's competition? When it was clear that Quinn's attention was back on the stage, Rachel remained standing and hesitated for a brief second before she decided that it would be foolish to move again when there was an empty seat _right here_.

So, she smoothed down her skirt and sat in the seat next to Quinn before pulling out her script from her bag. She did her best to tune out what was going on around her for the next few moments, mouthing along the words of her already-memorized monologue. Though, she did occasionally glimpse back at Quinn, to see the blonde staring at the stage and taking notes.

She wondered about it, but who was she to judge another performer's process? It would do her better to focus on her own audition, she knew. With that in mind, she started her abbreviated vocal warm-ups. Quietly, of course. Mostly to herself, seeing as how she'd done her _real_ warm-ups before she'd left the house.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see the way Quinn turned to look at her, as well as the incredulous look on her face. She didn't pause in her run-through, though, until she finished and turned to look back at the blonde.

And she didn't even have to prompt her, before Quinn asked in a slightly irritated whisper, "And you have to do that right now, right here? Next to me?"

Rachel merely lifted her eyebrows at the tone, "Quinn, I'm not sure you're entire aware – I can't make any assumptions, seeing as though you never answered why you were here," she reminded her. "– but _Jekyll & Hyde_ is a musical, and the audition calls for an audition song."

The scathingly acerbic look she was given almost made her want to laugh as Quinn drawled back a short, "I'm aware, thanks."

Rachel had never heard a more sarcastic thank you in her entire life.

But it did enlighten her – so Quinn _was_ planning to sing. Very interesting indeed. She couldn't stop herself from continuing, not that she tried very hard, "And you should know that a proper vocal warm-up is imperative to give a good performance," she dutifully told her. And was met with another look that was kind of annoyed, but not really _annoyed_ , like high-school-Quinn used to look like.

Then her eyes widened, because high school foe or not, she didn't want Quinn to be unprepared, "Wait. Did you do the proper warm-ups? Because, if you would like, I could show you –"

"No. Thanks, but I think I'll be fine," Quinn assured with a knowing tone and the semblance of a smirk playing around her mouth.

It made Rachel suspicious, and she narrowed her eyes, but before she could question her, Quinn turned back to face the stage, "Now, do you think you could keep it down for another minute?"

Rachel frowned at the brush-off; she was certainly more interesting than the woman who was trying to sing horribly out of her range on stage!

When Quinn started to write something down again in her notebook, it dawned on her that maybe Quinn was taking _note_ of her competition. Which seemed entirely unnecessary for Lima Community Theatre, but she would commend her dedication. And as her curiosity got the better of her, she started to shift in her seat, hoping that Quinn didn't notice as she craned her neck.

She just wanted to see if there was anything written down that would tell Rachel who she was auditioning for.

Her plan was foiled, though, when Quinn put the notebook down on her lap with an irritated exhale, "What now?"

She offered a small, sheepish smile and a shrug before she admitted, "I'm simply very curious as to who you will be auditioning for, Quinn."

The blonde now stayed looking at Rachel as she leaned back in her seat, and her eyes slowly narrowed in thought, but she still didn't answer what Rachel wanted to know. She, however, was not going to back down and she refused to look away.

It was ultimately Quinn who broke the silence first, tilting her head to the side as if she'd reached an understanding, "Afraid I'm going for the same part as you?"

An unbelieving laugh escaped her, and amusement made her grin, but that all came to a hault when she saw how the glint in Quinn's eyes sharpened. She cleared her throat, "I apologize, but… no. I'm not afraid of you auditioning for the same role."

"You don't think I could get it?" Quinn challenged and she sounded scarily serious, but Rachel couldn't help but believe that she wasn't. There was no way Quinn Fabray thought she was a better performer than Rachel Berry.

She tried to soften her words as much as possible, "Quinn, I don't know how to say this without being insulting, but I could out-sing anyone in Lima – barring very few exceptional performances given by a select few people – ten years ago. And you are simply not one of those few people." Quinn was still giving her a solemn look, and Rachel sobered herself even more, "I go to the New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts!"

Quinn remained unfazed as she shot back, "And I go to Yale for their theatre studies program. So?"

Surprised, wide brown eyes stared back at her, "Really? Yale?"

Yale was… very impressive, Rachel could admit that. In fact, if the situation wasn't presenting itself at this particular moment, she might have wanted to discuss that some more. And yes, the theatre program there was very good. But, it was still no NYADA.

She gave a small nod to Quinn's proud smirk, "It _is_ impressive. But I'm afraid that it doesn't mean you'll beat me out for a part."

There was this odd feeling buzzing lightly through her, and it was a feeling she used to get when having a showdown with Quinn. For some reason, the familiarity of it felt strangely good.

But instead of shooting back a retort, Quinn just hummed lightly, "We'll see."

 _We'll see_? That was it? Fine. Rachel supposed that they _would_ see.

… okay, no, she _had to know_ , "Who are you auditioning for?"

Quinn was wearing that damnable smirk that just got even wider, like she picked up on the desperation in Rachel's tone, but she still didn't answer.

She ran through all of the parts in her head, before settling back into her seat and realizing that there was an obvious answer that had been there all along, "I probably should have just guessed that you were auditioning for Emma."

The questioning look she received wasn't the giveaway she'd hoped for, as Quinn repeated, "Emma?"

And she nodded – why had she even been worried? Of course Quinn was going to pick Emma, "It just makes sense." And when Quinn quirked her eyebrow as if inviting Rachel to elaborate, she didn't hesitate, "The good girl. Pure, light, chaste."

Pregnancy aside – and if the rumors were true, Quinn had only had sex that one unlucky time – the blonde had been the president of the celibacy club. Both pre- and post-pregnancy.

Now Quinn rolled her eyes, hard, before she shook her head and scoffed, "And who are you auditioning for?"

Rachel just stared at her – she knew Quinn had heard her sing before, and she assumed the blonde knew the characters of the play, "Lucy, clearly."

"Oh, clearly," Quinn parroted back. Well, it would have been parroted back, if Rachel had that smoky timbre.

Rachel narrowed her eyes at her, "I'll have you know, that the prostitute with a heart of gold is a universally used trope in theatre," she extolled.

Quinn simply tilted her head to the side with a considering, devilish look in her eyes and a smile on those soft-looking lips, " _Of course_ , the hooker with the heart of gold. And that's the role you see yourself in? That makes sense," she used Rachel's own words against her.

She sat up straight and had a lecture on the tip of her tongue – she was getting riled up, and as soon as Quinn saw it, she smirked. Which only made Rachel huff in annoyance before crossing her arms and biting her tongue, trying to calm down. Getting riled up before an audition was _not_ preferable.

It was only when the woman on stage tentatively asked, "Would you like to hear another song?" that Rachel even realized she'd stopped singing.

After looking around and being unsure as to who the woman was speaking to, she realized with a start that the woman was looking right at Quinn.

Her jaw dropped in shock, because how could she have been so foolish? There was no one else around in the theatre who was taking notes. Notes of people's performances!

She could hear her own astonishment as she yelped, "You're the director?!"

Quinn – whose smirk had disappeared when she'd turned to face the woman on the stage – looked a little flustered herself, a slight blush on her cheeks revealing that maybe she'd been a little too caught up in their conversation, too, as she answered, "Um, no. Thank you for the audition, I'll be in touch."

After she smiled reassuringly at the woman, she turned back to Rachel. Who was understandably incredulous, "I know it's only a small production, but aren't you too inexperienced for this?"

She knew it was only Community Theatre – and in Lima, at that – but… Quinn was a twenty year old college student!

Quinn gave her a dry look, "And you think Mr. Olsen had more experience in theatre?"

Which gave Rachel pause. Mr. Olsen, who had been directing musicals at the Lima Community Theatre since before she could remember, was in his forties and had spent his entire adult life managing Lima's car washing service. She supposed that someone in school for theatre – especially at Yale – would probably know more about a production.

Apparently Quinn took her silence as farther doubting of her abilities, and she sighed, "The professor I had in my acting class managed to suggest me for the position. _She_ doesn't doubt my capability," she added pointedly.

Rachel was processing it all, though, and just offered a slight nod. She was honestly just baffled at the turn of events. Who in the world would have predicted that Quinn Fabray would be here, directing a show for the Lima Community Theatre, at the same time that Rachel herself would be here to audition?

The only question that worked its way out – and perhaps her biggest question of all – was, "If you're so interested in performing, or at least in the performance arts, why didn't you ever join glee club? Or the musical?"

She was met with just a measuring look, before Quinn settled back into her seat with that glint in her eye again, "It's your turn to audition, Berry. Impress me."

"As if I could do anything but," she fired back, as she brushed her hands over her clothes and stood up to make her way to the stage steps. She was experiencing a strange sensation of feeling more nervous as she approached the center of the stage than she'd been when she came in.

Her music cued up and started to play, and it was automatic to sing along. She'd thought that _Someone Like You_ from the show's original soundtrack would be a good choice. She knew she could hit all of the notes flawlessly, and it would give her the opportunity to showcase herself actually in the role of Lucy.

However, that was before the thing that was actually making herself nervous had presented itself: Quinn Fabray was the _director_. And she was looking up at her with a small smirk. Rachel closed her eyes and did her best to just throw herself into the song.

She _knew_ she'd sung it well, despite today's surprises. Possibly even performed better than her practices, because she wanted to really give Quinn no reason not to cast her. But when she looked at the blonde again after reciting her monologue, she was met with an unreadable expression.

Quinn didn't even offer her much of a smile when Rachel gave her best show-smile!

Instead, she was met with a quiet, "Thanks, Berry. I'll be in touch." And she was fairly certain it was her imagination that it sounded different from the way she'd dismissed the woman before her.

It did not bolster confidence, really, and she was already starting to get a bit paranoid that she wasn't going to get the part before she even left the theatre.

A few days later found Rachel laying in her bed in the middle of the afternoon. She'd already cleaned out her old desk as well as gone grocery shopping and done a yoga routine to try to distract herself from feeling unhappy about not hearing back from her audition.

When her phone rang, she picked it up from where it rested on her stomach, and answered without even having to look, because she knew it was Kurt. It was time for his fifteen minute break, and she knew that Blaine had gone on vacation with his family today, which meant he was going to be very faithful with his calling routine.

Forgoing a greeting, he asked, "How's summer in Lima?"

And she rolled his eyes at his knowing tone, instead answering with, "It'll be better when you take the time to visit me." Which she knew most likely wouldn't happen for a couple of months, but still.

"So, don't keep me waiting. How did your audition go?" He sounded excitedly curious.

And she sat up quickly, suddenly excited, her hair falling over her shoulder as she gripped her phone, "Kurt! I forgot to tell you. _Quinn_ is here. And she was there."

His voice was nearly a screech, "Quinn Fabray?!"

And she grimaced at the sound in her ear, but practically screamed back, "Yes!"

"Quinn Fabray, Head Cheerio from McKinley, who you now admit that you were fixated on, was at the audition for _Jekyll & Hyde_?" he asked slowly like he couldn't believe it.

Rachel lost her patience for him, "Yes, Kurt!"

"What was she doing?"

She opened her mouth to answer before closing it as she thought about her predicament with Quinn as the director, "She – well, she's the director."

But Kurt didn't seem fazed, "Wow, how does she look?"

Narrowing her eyes, she wished she could have him here for a face-to-face conversation, "That's what you want to know? Not how she _became_ the director?"

He defended, "Well, I assume that it couldn't be all that difficult to nab the role of director in the Lima Theatre Guilt, Rachel."

Which just made her roll her eyes again, "Well, even though you _didn't_ ask, apparently, she goes to Yale now, for drama. And she looks gorgeous, Kurt. Would you ever expect anything else?"

"Hey, I'm just surprised by this. You've been sitting on the information for days and didn't tell me!"

Blowing out a breath, she pulled up her legs to sit on them, "Now as surprised as I was." But that just reminded her of the _bigger_ Quinn-surprise this summer, which she definitely hadn't told Kurt about. She glimpsed at the envelope that was nestled on her bedside table, and hesitated a few seconds before heaving a sigh, "I want to tell you something."

Kurt was immediate in his answer, "I'm listening…"

Biting her lip, she shook her hair back, "I – you know how my coming home had been a last minute decision?"

"Yes…" he responded cautiously, "Because your dads were moving?"

Rachel closed her eyes against that bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, "Partially, yes. But also because… Shelby moved to Lima, and sent me a letter, asking to meet again."

"Shelby, your mother?"

"My birth mother, yes," she clarified.

And he let out a quiet, "Woah. And… you went to see her?"

He was careful in his question, and she appreciated that as she closed her eyes, "Yes, and I don't really want to talk about the specifics yet, so please don't ask about those. But… I saw Quinn _there_ , too."

She could literally hear how confused Kurt was on the other end of the line in his silence, and she knew for a fact that he must be dying for answers and she was grateful that she knows he won't ask.

Eventually, he responded, not bothering to hide the question in his voice, "O-kay… What happened, then?"

Thinking back on the afternoon, she cringed at herself, "I thought – well, I thought that she was breaking into the house."

Kurt let out a quick laugh, "Oh no."

He didn't even _know_ yet, and she closed her eyes as she told him, "And I thought about those defense classes we took, last year."

He gasped, "Oh _no_."

Her hand came up to cover her face in secondhand embarrassment at herself as she rushed out, "And I tackle-wrestled her to the ground and might have given her a concussion."

"No!" he screamed back and she could hear him laughing. Actually, she might have heard him laughing all the way from New York.

"Yes, Kurt!" she confirmed as she reached back to pull a pillow over her face, "It was _not_ my finest moment."

But Kurt was positively _cackling_ , "I can't believe you tackled Quinn Fabray! Are you really still _alive_ right now? She's thrown slushies at you for offended her eyes with your animal sweaters!"

Rachel dropped the pillow to throw her old sweaters that were still tucked away in the closet a sympathetic glance, before she rolled her eyes, "No, I'm dead and calling you from beyond the grave."

He was still laughing, and hadn't even caught his breath when he let out a long sigh, "I have to go back in. But, seriously, when did Lima become more interesting than New York, for once?"

She rolled her eyes, before saying her goodbyes and hanging up, though the same thought was on her mind.

As soon as she placed her phone back onto the bed, it _pinged_!

And she picked it up to find a new email, which she hurriedly opened as anticipation started to build and she bit her lip to keep from smiling too soon. But as soon as she opened it – from the sender and she saw that she was one of several receivers as she'd emailed the entire cast list – it was pointless to try to hold back her grin.

Of course, based on sheer talent, she wasn't surprised at all that she'd been cast as Lucy. She'd been worried about the Quinn of it all. But thankfully, even Quinn couldn't deny her talents, despite the fact that Rachel had concussed her and possibly insulted her prowess as a director. Not that she'd intended to do either of those things.

She hopped up from her bed to jump around, clutching her phone tightly in hand as she did a little dance of excitement. At the very least, this was one thing that could go right this summer.

Her dance was promptly cut off less than a minute later, when another email came through. Confused, she paused all motion as she pulled it up. Once again, from Q. Fabray, except this time, she was the only recipient.

 _See you soon, Berry_.

Which was… confusing, and not just because of the excited nerves she had settling in her stomach at the words that she could hear in her mind in Quinn's voice.

Upon farther inspection, she thought that maybe this was not only her summer to tie up all loose ends from Lima, but that _maybe_ Quinn was also a loose end she hadn't realized she'd even had had. Quinn Fabray had always been a mystery to her, and maybe this summer she'll be able to figure her out.

* * *

 **Please let me know what you think! I've never written for Rachel/Quinn before, so this is my first attempt, and I would appreciate any feedback. This is going to be a really short story, like 4/5 chapters, while I get used to their character voices. I hope you enjoy it!**


	2. Something There

The sound of the front door opening took everyone's attention off of the story, and Rachel could hear shoes stomping around in the entryway, followed by the muffled sound of Kurt muttering to himself.

Within seconds he was calling out, "James? Rachel?"

James hopped up from where he sat as he answered, "Daddy!"

Rachel yelled at the same time, "In the living room!"

Her best friend appeared in the doorway, shaking his head as he reached up to brush snowflakes out of his coiffed hair, "The snow is just starting to calm down, thankfully," but his irritation at the weather was more than clear in his tone.

Dark eyes flickered to the window, and she was grateful that the snow did appear to be lighter now; they had a large dinner reservation to get to later, and she didn't think it would be good to miss it. She, Quinn, all of their parents, Shelby, Kurt, Blaine, Brittany, Santana, and the kids were _not_ going to be able to fit into their kitchen for dinner.

James was up and had his arms around Kurt's waist, and she smiled at him in greeting even as she asked, "I thought you were meeting us later?"

"I heard a rumor that Rachel Berry –"

"Berry-Fabray," James told him, seriously, as he always did. It both amused Rachel and made her heart feel warm at the reminder.

Kurt rolled his eyes playfully at his son before he continued, "– was babysitting a flock and I thought that now would be a good time." He shrugged, "And I might have wanted to get out of the snow, too," he waved his hand as if to say it didn't matter, before he met her eyes, his alight in amusement, "So, how was your afternoon?"

She narrowed her own eyes at him and his knowing tone, "I'll have you know, it's going very well."

James dropped his arms from his hug and came back to sit loyally at Rachel's feet, "She's telling us a story!"

Kurt raised his eyebrows, the smile on his face growing even larger, "Oh, _Funny Girl_ , again?"

She crossed her arms, "I do know other stories." Even as her cheeks flushed, because of course he knew her fallback.

It was Alex who answered for her, though, supplying, "Goldilocks and Tinkerbell in Midsummer. And Tinkerbell beat up Goldilocks, because she's magic."

Her best friend's face scrunched together in confusion for a few seconds, "Tinkerbell… and Goldilocks?"

James gestured for Kurt to join him on the floor, and he did as his son explained, "Tinkerbell just went back to the old land for the summer, that's when she beat up Goldilocks. But then Goldilocks turned out to be the in charge of the village singing troupe!"

Realization dawned on him with a wry grin, "Ah, sounds like a _great_ story. I thought I heard _Someone Like You_ when I was coming up the stairs, but then I told myself I was hearing things."

"I wanted music," James informed him with a nod and a big smile.

Rachel, naturally, preened slightly – it had been a while since she'd sung it, but all of the members of her young audience had enjoyed it. Even Beth had been at attention.

"Of course you did," Kurt murmured, stroking his son's hair briefly, before he settled back, "Well, don't let me stop you."

She shook her head lightly, as she tried to remember her place.

Beth had her phone in hand and she didn't take her eyes off of it before she asked, "What happened with Tinkerbell and the Queen?"

Kurt's look of understanding vanished, and he looked between them in confusion, "The Queen?"

"Tinkerbell's mom. The Queen of the Fairies," Liz informed him, sitting forward in her chair as she got into the story, before addressing Rachel, "Did Tinkerbell go back to see her? Even after what happened with Goldilocks at her castle?"

Rachel nodded as she cleared her throat, "That is just where we left off. Thank you for asking, Beth."

The teenager shook her head, even though there is a little bit of color in her cheeks as she managed to slide down even more where she was laying on the couch, "I was just… asking. For the purpose of the story."

She now felt even more accomplished, but she humored Beth and smiled lightly, "Right." She settled back in, "As a matter of fact, Tinkerbell _did_ to see the Queen again. But not right away."

* * *

"You're singing in the wrong pitch – _again_ ," Rachel's irritation was reaching a peak and she felt her hands clutch into fists to try to control her temper.

But it really couldn't be helped that her annoyance was seeping out; she'd reached her boiling point. It had been almost two weeks since she'd received the fabulous yet unsurprising confirmation that she'd gotten the part of Lucy, and since then, there had already been two rehearsals before this one.

In said first two rehearsals – one that primarily had served as a cast meetup – Rachel had confirmed that she was the most talented performer in the group, which wasn't surprising in the least; at least half of her cast mates had never even _heard_ of NYADA, and aside from herself and Quinn, there was only one person who had ever gone to college for the arts.

Which wasn't particularly shocking; this _was_ community theatre, and she'd known going into it that the caliber of performance wasn't going to be equal to that of the professional standard that she already held herself to, or even that of a musical put on by her school. But at the _very_ _least_ she expected everyone to take their commitment seriously.

And yet, she was continuously proven to be incorrect in that assumption. Today had gone especially badly. First of all, Laura, the woman who was to play Emma, had arrived nearly twenty minutes late. Again. Which made no sense, because Rachel had sent a message into the group chat reminding everyone this morning of what time they had to be at the theatre! So the only conclusion that she could draw from the matter was that Laura-the-paralegal assumed that she had the right to leave all of them waiting around for her.

Secondly, Michael – the man who was going to be playing Utterson – decided to try out _accents_ for the role. Accents! He might not have been in the top three billed characters, but as the second male lead and one who would be in several crucial scenes, it would make them all look ludicrous for him to perform with a hideously fake accent.

And she, naturally, had told him as much when they were running lines for one of their scenes.

But the biggest issue of all, was Asher – the twenty-four year old who was playing the eponymous Jekyll and Hyde. Upon first meeting him, Rachel had high hopes about the quality of the show. He _apparently_ received his undergraduate degree in theatre from Ohio State, and Rachel would admit that he could hold a note better than the majority of their untrained cast.

However, he was pitchy and occasionally had tonal issues; she strongly suspected that he would not make it through her vocal classes at NYADA. And the fact of the matter was that she had to duet with him more than once; he _had_ to be able to keep up with her on some level.

Asher threw his arms in the air – rather dramatically, she thought, as she crossed her own – before he shot back, "I was _not_ pitchy!"

She scoffed, dark eyes rolling incredulously, " _Yes_ , you were. And it's at the same part that you were pitchy during the _last_ time we rehearsed this song!" Rachel might not be the best dancer – though she could follow any choreography given enough preparation – but she knew tone and pitch like the back of her hand.

"Maybe _you're_ the one with pitch problems!" he shouted, which caused all of the other action going on around them to pause as attention diverted to them.

And Rachel wasn't sure she had _ever_ been more insulted, "I have perfect pitch, and certainly better than _you_ since I was twelve!"

That was merely a fact.

"What is going on here _now_?"

The low growl of Quinn's voice gave Rachel goosebumps as she spun around to face the clearly annoyed blonde who must have made her way over despite working with Laura. But Rachel had no time to spare sympathy for irritating Quinn; she'd been the one who'd cast such people.

Not to mention the fact that every time Rachel pointed out a fault executed by someone else, Quinn never seemed to take her seriously.

Plus, she was somewhat frustrated that she had to spend so much time in rehearsals worrying about everyone's performance that she was sorely lacking time to complete her goal of figuring out Quinn. How were they supposed to get any closer when they were both so busy and often not in good spirits because of the lackluster attitudes around them?

Before she could inform Quinn of the latest mishap, Asher cut in, " _She_ thinks that my pitch is off," and Rachel could see the way his mouth formed a small smile, that she supposed he thought was charming, "But we all know that Rachel isn't the woman in charge here."

It made Rachel roll her eyes. He was _so_ obvious, and had been ever since the very first rehearsal. With his admittedly handsome looks and ever-so-decent performing ability, he had been taking every opportunity to try to charm Quinn.

She wished he would understand that this was a _professional_ – practically – acting space; there was no room for his flirtation. In fact, it was grating. And Rachel considered it a stroke of luck that someone who looked as good as Quinn did was most likely used to being hit on so often that she didn't seem to fall for his charms.

If only she would take her role as director seriously enough to listen to what Rachel had to say!

"I might not be in charge, but it doesn't mean I don't know what I'm talking about," she shot him a glare, before turning her attention to Quinn, who was watching her with narrowed eyes, "Quinn, it would be remiss of you to allow Asher to keep on like this. Furthermore, when Laura and I practiced _In His Eyes_ , I noticed several issues there, as well that you would do well to look into."

Hazel eyes closed as Quinn's jaw clenched before she barked out, "We're done for the day. Berry, follow me."

With that, she turned on her heel and started walking toward one of the backstage wings, and Rachel readily followed, already talking, "Honestly, I –"

But she got rudely cut off when Quinn spun around, eyes blazing, and Rachel had to stop short before she walked right into her, "I know this might come as a shock to you, because of the many critiques you give to everyone here, but you are _not_ the be-all-end-all of musical knowledge!"

Rachel felt the insult like a slap, and she gaped at Quinn for a few moments before her agitation drove her to action, and she crossed her arms, "I never claimed to be such, Quinn, but you are aware that what is going on out there is not going to result in a flawless performance, right? My critiques are flaws that need to be worked on!"

"I'm _well aware_ that there is a lot of work that needs to be done," Quinn growled back and took her a step impossibly closer, bringing her close enough to Rachel that she could feel her body heat, adding to the overall mugginess of the theatre and something about it all had them both breathing a little heavily, "But has it ever occurred to you that it's still very early in the rehearsal and not everyone spends every second of their lives thinking about the musical? That these people have other things going on in their lives, too?"

"Perhaps they _should_ spend more time thinking about the musical, and there would be far, far less issues! Musicals are hard work, and I'm not entirely convinced that it's going to be executed well when Laura, Asher, and Michael are all having so many problems," the crushing feeling of the stress in the pit of her stomach was working its way outward, and she nearly shouted the words.

Which made Quinn grimace, as she stepped even closer and the gentle brush of Quinn's arm against her own gave her pause enough for Quinn to cut in, "Look. _I'm_ the director, okay? If the show doesn't do well, then it's on me. And having you cause problems with everyone else on the cast causes _both_ of us even more issues."

Her mouth drew down into a frown, and she lowered her voice significantly as she realized the cast in question was most likely listening in as they packed up, "I understand that you're the director, but –"

"But, nothing. That's where it ends. If you have a problem with something that involves _your_ part, then come to me about it," Quinn nodded and stepped back, before she sighed in annoyance, "I was actually _glad_ to have you as Lucy, because I figured that you were one less person that I would have to constantly be watching over. But all you've been doing is making me regret it, especially today. Fix it by the next rehearsal," she commanded, before she stepped back and started back toward the stage.

Rachel huffed out a breath as she watched her go, because that dismissal was just rude. But then she drew her bottom lip into her mouth and bit down in thought, because she would be lying if she didn't feel a little pleased at the fact that Quinn said she was glad to have her as Lucy.

She was pleased that Quinn appreciated her talent, and… she supposed there was some merit in what else Quinn had said. If she looked at it objectively, she could understand where Quinn was coming from. Even though her points were valid – and she would _not_ stand to be in a sub-par performance no matter what – today was a bit worse than the other rehearsals.

And the reason for that was the missed call blinking on her phone that she'd received yesterday.

The missed call from Shelby, that she pointedly hadn't answered, but had been weighing on her. And not just on her, apparently, but on everyone else. Even her dads had noticed her bad mood this morning and had commented on it. Which spoke volumes, given how distracted they'd been preparing everything for the move.

Quinn was right; she needed to fix it. If for no reason other than the fact that clearly this was only their third rehearsal, and the cast was already starting to become strained, and this stress was only adding to it.

But beyond that, Rachel Barbra Berry was not the type of person to hide from her problems. If anything, she faced them _too_ head on, and at the very least, she should deal with Shelby again to try to wrap things up. That was the whole point of this summer, wasn't it?

Which was why she found herself parked in the same place as a couple of weeks ago outside of her birth mother's house after she'd left the theatre. With a deep breath, she got out of the car and smoothed her hands over the sides of her skirt to calm her nerves.

Unlike her last visit, there was a car in the driveway that was not a red VW Beetle, confirming to her that Shelby – not Quinn – was home. Steeling her nerves, she reached out and knocked on the door, this time only having to wait a few seconds before she heard footsteps on the other side.

And when Shelby swung open the door, the look of surprise on her face was unmistakable, "Rachel! I – I didn't expect you, when you didn't answer my call yesterday."

For some reason, there was perpetually something about seeing Shelby that made her feel like she was years younger and like she should both be intimidated and in awe, and it made Rachel's stomach twist. Shaking herself out of it, took in a deep breath – she'd practiced this on the ride over, "I apologize for not calling, again. I –"

Shelby quickly cut in, "I told you, you don't have to call. I'm just surprised. But happy to see you," she added quickly, looking unsure but Rachel thought a little hopeful before she glanced over her shoulder, "Do you want to come in?"

She was quick to shake her head – no, she definitely didn't want to go in and look around at Shelby's life with her actual daughter, "No. Thank you, but I came here to say a few things, and I would appreciate if you let me get them all out."

Rachel thought she detected a hint of amusement along with the look of surprise, before Shelby gave her a tentative nod. But she ignored it, and pushed onward.

"When you sought me out to be in my life a few years ago, it hurt me more than I can say when you decided that I wasn't… that I wasn't what you wanted, or what you thought it would be like for us, and that you didn't want to work on it. But in the last few years, I've grown up and gotten a new look on the whole situation," she paused for a breath, and gained confidence when she saw that Shelby was really _listening_.

After another moment, during which she thought about all that she'd told herself to say, she continued, "But coming here to see that you adopted a daughter right around the time that you pushed me away," and not only was it any daughter, but Quinn Fabray's daughter at that – which Rachel certainly wasn't going to bring up with Shelby, "That made this all even more difficult to swallow. And perhaps not being blindsided by it all would have made it easier to manage, but for now I just don't know how to deal with it all."

Shelby watched her for a few seconds before she seemed to decide it was a good time to say something, "Rachel, I'm sorry that everything has played out between us the way it has. I hope that at the very least, you know that. I didn't mean to surprise you with Beth, but I didn't want to tell you about her in the letter."

Dark eyes searched her own, and it was _always_ startling to realize how very similar they were to hers, and she swallowed hard before nodding, "I understand that. I do. Nothing about this situation between us is simple, but I'm at a point in my life where I'd like to be figuring things out, not making them more complicated. And I hope that you can understand that, and respect it."

She'd been unsure as to how to ask Shelby to not call her again without having to bluntly say the words because subtlety really wasn't her specialty, but that seemed like as good of a way as any. And judging by the look of understanding that crossed over her face, she seemed to get it.

When she shrugged her shoulders and took in a deep breath, the stress that had been weighing her down seemed to dissipate a bit, and she was glad for it, "Okay, well, I think that I should probably be going now."

They held eye contact for a few moments, but she could see Shelby's disappointment, and it was threatening to weigh her down once more, so she took a step back, prepared to walk away, only to be stopped as she reached the steps, "When do you think… will you be back?"

The words were quiet, and they floated between them for a few moments as she contemplated them, before settling on the only certainty she could give, "I don't know."

All that she did know, was that as she walked away, she felt better than she had since her first visit. Maybe things weren't completely resolved, but they were resolved _for now_ , and that was good enough for her.

The peace she felt was short-lived, upon arriving home.

She'd forgotten that her dads were going to be spending the night at the new house in Cleveland. The sale had officially gone through a couple of days ago, and the next couple of months were going to be spent repainting and doing small repairs. Not by themselves, of course, because both of her dads had a very rudimentary knowledge of carpentry, and one home improvement project gone very wrong years ago was enough to prompt them to call a professional.

Before they'd left, they'd made jokes about leaving her alone for the evening and how much she must have been looking forward to it. But aside from one extremely ill-fated party she'd thrown in her junior year of high school, she couldn't think of a time she'd ever looked forward to not having her dads at home for the night.

Rachel let out a lengthy sigh as she walked through the empty house and made her way up to her room. Today _had_ been a long and trying day, really. It might do her some good to do what she'd originally planned to do for the evening, which was take down some memorabilia from her walls and most likely throw most of it away. Take some time to unwind.

But… she didn't feel like being alone. Or lonely.

There wasn't really an easy solution to that problem, however. Because this was _Lima_ , and Lima didn't have that much going for it, especially in terms of activities to do. When she'd lived here – before having her few select friends – her evenings consisted of various lessons and hangout time with her dads.

Neither of which were available to her at the moment. One look at the time informed her that Kurt would be busy at work, and it wasn't like she still knew anyone in Lima.

* * *

"Wait a second," Kurt interrupted, leaning back so he could look up at Rachel, "What did you just say Tinkerbell's best friend's name was?"

It was his son who answered that for him, "Peter Pan, daddy. Everyone knows that."

Rachel's mouth curled into a teasing grin as she echoed, "Yes, Kurt, everyone knows that."

Her best friend narrowed his eyes at her, "Mhmm. Just double checking."

"As I was saying…"

* * *

She kept in minimal contact with a few members of New Directions – namely Mercedes and Tina – neither of which were in town.

Finn was here, she was fairly certain. But she hadn't really spoken to him since the end of their senior year, after a decidedly messy breakup, and she wasn't about to open _that_ gate again.

She was about to resign herself to a lonely, boring night in when the idea hit her; she did know _someone_ who was still in Lima. And she did have another goal that she wanted to achieve. A goal that she could make headway on without feeling all of that stress and guilt that she associated with her birth mother.

It only took a few seconds after the idea entered her mind before she grabbed the keys once more and made her way downstairs and out the door once again.

However, when she was standing on the Fabray's front porch at seven o'clock on a Thursday evening, she started to question her decision. It certainly wasn't as though she and Quinn had a sort of relationship where they could just show up at each other's houses to hang out. Or, really, any sort of relationship at all, beyond frustrated director and exasperated actress.

Despite her nerves, she took a deep breath and set back her shoulders; she was relatively sure that it would be okay. The worst case scenario was that Quinn would tell her to leave. Or, perhaps Quinn wouldn't even be home.

Unlike her, the blonde had to have her pick of people to hang out with in high school, and Rachel clearly had no idea who Quinn still kept in contact with. But her car _was_ parked in the driveway…

Even if Quinn didn't want to chat or get to know one another better, Rachel acknowledged that she was overstepping her bounds during rehearsals, and she should take responsibility for that. So with that in mind, she rang the doorbell.

The large, imposing door swung open sooner than she expected, and she jumped a bit in surprise, before fixing on a bright smile when she was faced with the same older blonde that she'd informally met after dropping Quinn off with her concussion.

"Hello Mrs. Fabray, it's nice to meet you. I'm Rachel Berry," she offered her hand.

Which was taken quickly, though she could see the question on the older woman's face, "Yes, you're Quinn's friend? The one who drove her home a couple of weeks ago?"

Rachel was relieved to see that it appeared that Quinn's mother didn't associate her as the woman who gave her daughter a head injury, and she nodded brightly as she elaborated, "We also went to high school together, and are working on the musical at the Lima Community Theatre together."

The blonde nodded and her polite smile grew warmer with recognition, "Oh, Quinnie has been working very hard on that play. I'm Judy; would you like to come in?"

 _Quinnie_. She had to bite her lip to stop the pleased smile from taking over, as she tucked the little nugget of information away, before moving onto the next thing: an invitation into Quinn Fabray's house. It was almost surreal. But she gladly accepted, and her anticipation rose as she stepped across the threshold, "Thank you."

"You said your name was Rachel?" Judy asked, as she led her through the foyer.

Dark eyes roamed the ornate decorations hanging in the hallway, before she snapped back to attention, "Yes, Rachel Berry," she repeated.

They came to a stop in front of a large staircase, and Judy turned to face her again, "Ah, Quinnie's mentioned you. Apparently you have _quite_ the voice."

A pleased flush worked its way over her cheeks, "Quinn's mentioned my voice?" She'd received much more praise for her singing than what Quinn's mom had just said, but somehow the idea that Quinn had talked about her felt like the highest praise.

Judy nodded, and before she could say anything else, there was another voice that Rachel didn't recognize coming from down the hallway, "Mom? Do you know where Liz's blanket is?"

And seconds later, from the hallway behind the staircase, another blonde appeared. She was older than Rachel herself, and she would guess by five or six years, and based on family resemblance – not to mention the fact that she'd referred to Judy as "mom" – that she was Quinn's older sister.

A piece of information that wasn't exactly new to her. Though it wasn't commonly known by the population at McKinley, Rachel had paid close attention to things Quinn had mentioned. But she'd never had a face to go with the name.

This girl wasn't _as_ beautiful as Quinn was, but that was a difficult feat to achieve. She was very pretty, though, despite looking tired. She assumed she looked tired because of the baby she had settled on her hip.

Quinn's sister came to a stop with a slightly confused smile on her face, "Hello?"

Judy intercepted, "I haven't seen her blanket, not since last night. This is Rachel, a friend of Quinn's. And Rachel, this is Quinn's sister, Frannie, and her daughter, Liz."

"It's nice to meet you. Both of you," she added, with a nod at the baby in her arms, who looked up at her with wide blue eyes.

Rachel's smile dimmed as Frannie's eyes slowly ran down her and then back up, before a slow knowing smile spread over her face. Knowing what, Rachel wasn't exactly sure, "A friend of Quinn's, huh. Looks about right."

Confused, and now a little nervous – because what if Quinn's sister was seeing that she wasn't the type of girl Quinn was usually friends with, and realize that they weren't exactly friends? – Rachel took a slight step back before she cleared her throat, "Um, yes. Is Quinn here?"

Judy was giving Frannie a reprimanding look, before she turned back to Rachel, polite smile back in place, "She's up in her room. You know her, always reading. She's the second door to the right of the stairs, if you want to go up," she nodded slightly at the staircase, and Rachel didn't have to be told twice before she started on her way up, after giving the older woman a grateful smile.

Always reading. Another piece of information to tuck away.

The second door to the right of the stairs was slightly ajar, and Rachel's slight nerves came back as she knocked lightly, only to be greeted with a lofty, "Come in," within seconds.

Without pause, she pushed the door open, only to stop after a few seconds, not moving any farther than the doorway. There Quinn was, lounging in her bed. She was wearing a pair of old shorts that revealed a lot of long, strong legs – the likes of which she hadn't seen since pleated skirts in high school – and her hair, which was usually perfectly brushed or styled, was in a hurried ponytail.

This was Quinn lounging around, comfortable, at home. Still so gorgeous, but different. More approachable. And her mother was right – she had a book open on her lap, and she hadn't looked up yet.

At least, not until Rachel cleared her throat to make her presence known, and as soon as Quinn's eyes flickered up at her, she could see the surprise set in. Quickly, her book was set to the side as she sat up straight, "What are you doing here?"

Rachel bit her lip. She didn't know why, but there was something about Quinn that both could unnerve her but in a way that made her intrigued, like she wanted even more of it, "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for earlier, at the theatre." Okay, this was going to be the hard part, and with a bit of difficulty, she swallowed some of her pride, "I know I'm not the _be-all-end-all_ of musical knowledge. Even though I do have a lot of musical knowledge, and my notes are worth listening to," she couldn't resist adding on, before rushing to finish, "Sometimes I can get caught up in the moment. Especially with it comes to a performance, and –"

She shook her head and cut herself off before she could go off even more on that topic, "And a few years ago, I might not have been able to get over myself. But in the spirit of making _Jekyll & Hyde_ a success, I would like it if we could both move forward. I'm sorry. You're the director and based on what I've seen so far on your notes about what direction you want to take the show in, you will be a good one."

That, at least, was also the truth. Rachel had read through the entire script that Quinn had given out, as well as all of her notes and additional commentary.

As a few seconds of silence beat between them, she wondered if Quinn was going to send her away. Really, she had no idea what to expect with the blonde, but she was hopeful that would change.

Hazel eyes stared at her with that thoughtful, unreadable gaze for a few moments, before her face softened, and Rachel breathed a sigh of relief even before Quinn nodded, "Don't get me wrong – you have been intense. Kind of verging on crazy."

Rachel let out a quiet huff but she made herself not roll her eyes, especially when she saw the corners of Quinn's mouth tick up in amusement before she continued, "But you _do_ have an ear for music," she begrudged, and Rachel wouldn't have been able to stop her delighted smile if she wanted to, "So, apology accepted."

Content to stand there and bask in this lightness between them, Rachel clasped her hands behind her back as she remained standing in the doorway, thinking. Now that _that_ was over, it was onto the hard part. Bonding with Quinn.

How was she to bond with the blonde when she hadn't even been officially invited into the room?

Inevitably, she started to do what she did best. Well, one of the things she did best, and just started to talk, "Was there a specific reason behind your stylistic choice for the light purple color of your walls? I've never associated you with this kind of muted color. Though, a bedroom that is painted red probably wouldn't be very soothing –"

Thankfully, Quinn quickly cut her off, her voice dry, "Berry, what are you even talking about? And why are you still standing in my doorway like a weirdo? You can come in."

She was positively delighted with the invitation, "I didn't want to assume."

"That's probably a first," the blonde commented.

But she chose to ignore that, as she was already stepping forward and inside, before she veered off to the side and started to look around. There was much less hanging on Quinn's walls than she had hanging on her own, though she did pause to admire a picture Quinn had of herself, and Brittany and Santana from high school, in their old Cheerios uniforms.

She could hear the amusement in Quinn's tone when she asked, "What are you doing?"

Dark eyes traced over the picture again, before she moved on, "I'm not doing anything."

There was a few seconds of silence, except for a soft rustling from the bed that Quinn was on, before that smoky voice husked out, "Rachel."

It felt like the simple sound was _caressing_ her, and her stomach twisted pleasantly as she quickly spun to face the blonde, her surprise evident.

And Quinn, who had been giving her a questioning look how sat up straight and looked a little alarmed, "What?"

What did Quinn mean _what_ ; it was obvious, "You called me Rachel," she told her, slowly. Waiting for her to catch on.

But hazel eyes just stared at her confusedly, "That's your name," Quinn told her, speaking like she was slow.

Rachel scoffed, "Well _I_ know that, but after knowing one another for going on seven years now, I have never heard _you_ say it."

Understanding dawned on Quinn's features now, and she settled back onto her bed again, as she asked, "Would you rather I stick to Berry?" sounding both amused and exasperated.

Rachel was already starting to grin – it was impossible not to, in a situation like this, and she shook her head, "No, Rachel will do just fine. And do answer your question, I was simply taking my time to look over Quinn Fabray's bedroom."

"It's fascinating, isn't it?" Quinn drawled, which made Rachel smile even wider as she raked her eyes over the décor once again.

The room was ultimately rather empty. She didn't know if it was because the majority of Quinn's belongings were at wherever Quinn lived during the school year, or if she maybe just didn't keep clutter around in general, but it would be fairly simple for Quinn to pack up her room. It certainly wouldn't take her the whole summer, like it was apparently going to take herself.

Running her tongue over her bottom lip, she leaned back against the dresser, "I was just thinking about how many boys a few years ago would have been very jealous."

Quinn's eyebrows drew together in question for a moment before her face smoothed out into a slight smile, and she pulled lightly at her comforter for a second before she sighed, "Just so you know, Rachel, I _do_ listen to your critiques. Just because I don't stop the rehearsal to address them, it doesn't mean I'm not listening. And while I do catch a lot of what you say, sometimes things like Asher's pitch get past me."

Rachel tilted her head from curiosity as she listened to Quinn's low voice, and it had dawned on her what the blonde was talking about just before Quinn finished with, "Maybe we can work together, instead of against each other."

A thrilled warmth settled low in her stomach, "After all, this does have the potential to be a good thing for both of our burgeoning careers," she added.

Quinn rolled her eyes, but nodded.

Which was all the acknowledgment she needed to add on, "I promise you that I'm not the diva that I once was. And I don't think that you seem like the same attitudinal girl that you once were, either."

When hazel eyes cast down at the bed and she didn't say anything, Rachel wondered if she said the wrong thing. Before the blonde looked back up and agreed, "No, I'm not."

Rachel beamed – this was going much, _much_ better than she had expected. She expelled a dramatic sigh, "I'm just glad you've actually admitted that Asher _is_ pitchy!"

She'd never heard Quinn laugh the way she did just then, but she liked it, and she smiled even wider. Figuring out Quinn might just be easier than she thought; she was already on the right path.

Rehearsals started flowing a lot smoother after that. In a matter of weeks, things were moving along well and they were even slightly _ahead_ of schedule, though Rachel never dared to say as much out loud, in fear of jinxing the production.

In those same weeks, Rachel dared to say she and Quinn were becoming friends. Okay, maybe not exactly _friends_ , but they were definitely friendly.

It all started with a simple cup of coffee.

She was buying herself an iced tea at the Lima Bean one afternoon before rehearsal, and on a whim, she'd purchased a cup of coffee for Quinn, as she noticed that the blonde had taken to sipping on some of the awful coffee they made at the theatre. And she also might have noticed exactly how Quinn took her coffee, as well. When she'd presented it to Quinn, the blonde had looked up at her with a moderately surprised, "Thank you."

And when she'd taken a sip, she'd given Rachel a gorgeous smile that made hazel eyes sparkle and warmed her from the inside out in a way that even the hot summer days they were experiencing couldn't do.

Then the next day, Quinn had surprised her with a cup of iced tea when she'd arrived for rehearsal. She'd been surprised and excited, and took the offered cup with a grateful, bright smile, and the blonde gave her one right back.

It was a nice routine; downright pleasant, in fact, and led them into several nice exchanges. But Rachel found that every time they got into conversation at the theatre, someone came along to interrupt them sooner rather than later.

Which was frustrating, though she supposed it was only natural, as they always exchanged teas and coffees at the start of rehearsals, therefore at the beginning of a busy time.

A week and a half into the routine, Rachel decided to switch it up. When she met Quinn's greeting with her own grin but no coffee, she noticed Quinn's smile dim a bit and she was positive that she saw disappointment flash across her face for a few moments before Quinn pretended that everything was normal.

Inwardly, she wondered if it was wrong that she took pleasure in Quinn's disappointment. But it wasn't wrong, really, she told herself. Was it really wrong to be happy that someone she wanted to spend time with appeared to reciprocate those feelings?

Her anticipation throughout that rehearsal had been through the roof, and once it had ended, she quickly hopped off stage to approach Quinn, who was quickly packing up for the day, "Quinn? Are you busy?"

She was given a fleeting glance over the blonde's shoulder, "Did you want to talk about the show?"

Rachel felt a bit nervous – but it wasn't like she was really _asking Quinn out_ – as she bit her lip, "Not really. I was thinking, since I didn't have time to stop and pick up our drinks before rehearsal today," such a lie, she'd had more than enough time, "If you had enough time to go to the Lima Bean with me, right now. And perhaps we could enjoy our beverages together."

Quinn's packing paused, and Rachel found herself inordinately interested in the way the blonde's fingers stroked over the back of her notebook for a few moments, before Rachel was given what looked like a _shy_ smile, "I'm not busy."

Thus began a new routine for the two of them. Not only after every rehearsal, but every single afternoon, the two of them would meet at the Lima Bean for tea and coffee. And their conversations swiftly moved into away from _Jekyll & Hyde_ – though they did still discuss the show as needed – and into more personal topics, much to Rachel's growing excitement.

These meetings were how she learned that Quinn's minor was in literature. The blonde had told her that she'd actually contemplated for a long time making it actually her major, because reading had always been something that had given her great joy. How in high school, she'd always kept a book on hand whenever she'd gone to a party.

How she'd learned that Quinn had originally intended on going into the acting side of her theatre major, but had quickly realized that she much preferred to be behind the scenes, hence the summer spent trying her hand at directing. But, even more than directing, lately she'd been considering going into writing. Perhaps screenwriting. And Rachel had already managed to talk her way into Quinn making her a deal that when she actually completed her first original story, she would let Rachel read it.

Hanging out with Quinn and getting to know her was exhilarating, and Rachel found that it made her days alone feel marginally less lonely. Everything she learned about Quinn made her less of a mystery, and made her more accessible, which was somehow even more impressive.

And not only was she learning about Quinn, but she was surprised at how much Quinn wanted to hear about her own stories, too. About her own life at NYADA and living with Kurt, and her adventures in New York.

It was ultimately extremely fulfilling, because Rachel _always_ had an inkling that Quinn was far more than the pretty face and the big attitude. And the fact that she was right about it just made her want to rub it in Kurt's face, for him mocking her interest in the blonde for so long.

Through all of this, it was on the Fourth of July that Rachel knew for sure that she and Quinn Fabray were actually friends.

She'd spent a few hours of her morning with her dads, but then her dad had to go to his shift at the hospital, and her daddy had to go to the new house to take advantage of the extra day off to set some things up. He'd tried to convince her to come along, but she hadn't felt like making the nearly three hour drive.

So, she was spending the day re-watching her favorite musicals as she laid on the couch enjoying the air conditioning. And when the doorbell rang, she was fairly confused as to who it could be, because her takeout had already arrived twenty minutes before.

She made her way across the house, face set into a confused frown as she pulled open the door. And her confusion grew at the same time as her delight bloomed, "Quinn?" However, the blonde wasn't wearing a matching smile. In fact, she looked a little surly – almost like high school Quinn, and it made Rachel feel a little nervous, "What are you doing here?"

Hazel eyes cut to her, taking in her expression, "Am I not allowed to come over?"

Rachel's eyebrows drew down in surprised confusion at the tone, "Of course you are." After a moment, she shook herself out of her slight stupor, and she stepped back to make space for her, "I just thought you were going to be with your family today."

In fact, she _knew_ that, because she'd invited Quinn over for the day, and she'd had very high hopes that they could spend time together beyond the coffee shop, but Quinn had instantly frowned and told her that she couldn't because there was a family party.

"I was with them," Quinn informed her, as she ignored the space Rachel had provided when she'd stepped back, and walked in, brushing right against her. Rachel bit her lip at the action, as Quinn sighed in relief at the cool air, before she shoulders drooped just a bit, the tension melting away just a bit, "I don't like to spend time with them. They…" white teeth dug into her bottom lip for a moment, "They stress me out and today just _sucked_."

Dark eyes tracked the blonde's movements for a moment as she put it together. Today had sucked for Quinn, as she so eloquently put it. Rachel would like to know more about why being with her family stressed her out – though she had a few guesses already, given some of their conversations – and she might push for that story on another day.

But for now, she was going to revel in the feeling that settled over her when she realized that when Quinn had a bad day, she wanted to seek _Rachel_ out to help make it better.

Quinn frowned, "I'm sorry for…" she trailed off and waved her hand toward the door that Rachel was still standing at, and it was clear that she was apologizing for her initial attitude.

But she just shrugged – that wasn't going to bring her down from her realization – before she shut the door, "It's nothing I haven't seen before," she teased lightly, trying to draw out a smile from the blonde.

It worked, barely. The trace of a grin pulled up one side of pink lips, before Quinn turned and started walking in the direction of the living room. Rachel quickly followed, taking her time to draw her eyes over the blonde, who was dressed up in a nice summer dress. It was light green, revealing the soft skin of her back under curled blonde hair, and came down to just above the knee.

It made her swallow hard as she brought her gaze back up to the back of Quinn's head as they entered the room, "You look very nice today, Quinn."

The blonde threw a look over her shoulder and looked down Rachel and then back up in a slow gaze, taking in her tank top and short shorts that she'd been wearing since she'd woken up, "So do you."

It made Rachel both blush and roll her eyes, "I'm sure."

Quinn settled down on the floor in front of the couch, leaning her back against it, as she looked at the television and then back at Rachel, eyebrow quirked in amusement, "Is RENT your idea of a feel good family movie for the holiday?"

Dark eyes rolled again as she moved to sit next to the blonde on the floor, drawing her knees up to her chest, "RENT is a movie that has high re-watchability for many occasions." It was only when Quinn smiled at her and shook her head before leaning back that Rachel noticed the bag Quinn had brought with her, "What did you bring?"

The blonde drew her tongue over her bottom lip slowly before she asked, "Are your dads home?"

Confused, her eyebrows drew together, "No… why?"

With that, Quinn reached into her bag and pulled out two bottles of wine, "With unknowing courtesy of the Fabray family," a light frown pulled at her features as she peered down at the label, "My aunt brought it, so it's probably pretty high quality alcohol."

Rachel couldn't help but chuckle, "I assure you, if my dads were here, they would be more offended if you wouldn't share then they would be opposed to two twenty-year-olds drinking. As long as we were responsible, of course."

"Of course," Quinn echoed teasingly, before she fished out a bottle opener.

Rachel watched as Quinn expertly uncorked the first bottle. She and Kurt enjoyed a few glasses of wine here and there, and she'd opened a few of the bottles, but Quinn did it so methodically, "You're… very good at that."

Quinn let out a quick laugh, "It's in the genes."

Rachel was about to go to the kitchen to grab some wine glasses – her dads had _quite_ the collection – before Quinn brought the bottle right to her lips. And she felt like she was transfixed for a few seconds, as she watched Quinn take a few sips. She was fairly certain that Quinn Fabray, with her head tilted back and pulling from a wine bottle, was the only one who could make it look so elegant.

But it did, with the way her hair fell over her shoulders – and then she was shaking herself lightly, as Quinn was offering her the bottle with a small, amused smile. And for the first few times they passed the bottle back and forth, she did have the fleeting thought that she and Quinn were exchanging indirect kisses, and her inner fourteen-year-old was amused and excited by the thought.

By the time the bottle was about half gone, and Rachel was feeling a pleasant buzz, she sighed and glanced at the air conditioner, "This is definitely the best thing about being home for the summer. The cold air."

Quinn smirked, and lifted an eyebrow as she teased, "They don't have air conditioning in New York?"

Dark eyes rolled and Rachel slid a few inches to nudge her with her shoulder. And then… she just stayed there, because leaning against Quinn was comfortable and she smelled nice, "Kurt and I don't have it," she corrected.

Quinn didn't seem to mind her presence against her side, and if Rachel wasn't mistaken, the blonde leaned a bit into her, too, "Is it what you expected it to be? New York?"

Rachel closed her eyes for a second as she licked her lips, "Yes. I spent _so long_ wanting to be there and waiting to leave here, that I was almost worried it wouldn't be as good as I always wanted. But it is. It so is. It's my home, for good." She opened her eyes and turned to look at Quinn, startled to see hazel eyes staring at her so close. It took her a second to remember what she was going to ask, "What about you? Is Yale all that you wanted it to be?"

Quinn sighed, before she shrugged, "I wasn't like you. I didn't have a specific place I wanted to be; I just wanted to be anywhere but here," her eyebrows drew down as she frowned before taking another sip of wine.

She lolled her head back against the couch and then turned to look at the blonde, closely. Her hair was a little mussed now, and her cheeks were flushed, but she looked so good. And Rachel would kill to know how she accomplished that, because she looked so good all of the time. It was unreal.

She would also kill to know what went on in Quinn's head when she made those frowny faces.

It was around the same time that she realized she hadn't responded to Quinn that the blonde turned to look at her, quirking her eyebrow in question, "What are you thinking about?"

"What's with the wine?" the words came out before she could think about them, or a better way to phrase them.

But it seemed Quinn understood, because she sighed and tilted her head back to mirror Rachel. And there was silence for a few moments before she admitted in a low voice, "My family never talks about Beth. My mom tiptoes around her name, and now my sister has her baby," she bit down on her bottom lip for a few moments as she closed her eyes and Rachel felt her own frown take over as her stomach twisted unpleasantly in sympathy, "And I just miss Beth. I missed her today, a lot, especially with… with Frannie and Liz, and how it's her first Fourth of July."

This was unchartered territory for them. Despite the fact that they'd been hanging out for a few weeks now, they hadn't broached the topic of Beth and Shelby. It had just remained an unspoken agreement, to keep it unspoken. But the can was opened now.

Rachel looked at the _sadness_ on Quinn's face, and she thought… she didn't understand the same pain, but she felt like she understood what she was saying, on a different level. And she tentatively reached out and traced her fingers lightly over the back of Quinn's soft hand as she asked quietly, "Why couldn't you see her today?"

Quinn paused and looked down at where Rachel's hand brushed over hers before she whispered, "It's… hard." And then she looked at Rachel, and hazel eyes were burning, "It's hard because she's mine, but she's not _mine_. And I want to spend all of the time in the world with her, but then it's even harder to handle. You know?"

Even though she was fairly certain that was meant to be rhetorical, the idea of mine but not _mine_ struck a chord with her, and she whispered, "I think I probably know better than most people."

And Quinn's eyes, which had been both steely and looking like it was going to become teary, softened as her gaze focused on her, running over her face. Her voice was quieter than Rachel had ever heard it, "Yeah, you do. Have you… gone to see Shelby again?"

Rachel blinked a few times as she thought about the encounter a few weeks ago, "I – once. But, it's hard," she repeated Quinn's words back to her, and with them, her fingers started to stroke over the back of Quinn's hand once more. So soft, and gently, she ran her fingertip down over the blonde's fingers.

The mood had turned so serious so fast, and Rachel wanted the lightness back. The easiness. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip before she cleared her throat and sat up a bit, zigzagging her finger over Quinn's hand playfully, "Besides, I've actually had some problems with criminals in that neighborhood. I've been thinking of suggesting that they start a neighborhood watch."

Quinn's eyes rolled _hard_ , but the grin that took over and transformed her features from melancholy to playful was unmistakable and gorgeous, "I don't know if I'd feel all that safe if you were patrolling my neighborhood," she smirked.

Which Rachel took incredible offense to, "Do we have to go over this again? I took you down, didn't I?"

The blonde scoffed, "Yean, only because my back was to you. And, who came out on top? Huh, Berry?" she cajoled, a mischievous glint in her eye.

And Rachel narrowed her own, as she pushed herself away from Quinn so she could get a better look at her, "I was in shock over seeing you!"

"Mhmm, sure," Quinn hummed noncommittally, clearly trying to rile her up even more.

And it was working.

"I've taken self-defense classes!" Rachel asserted, and crossed her arms with a huff.

Quinn turned to look at her, eyes narrowed in disbelief, "I survived three full years on the Cheerios with Sue Sylvester!"

Rachel frowned as she took that in, because… that was obviously impressed and not many people could say that. But still, "Quinn, admit it. I beat you fair and square."

Quinn just had that smirk on her face, and it was getting even bigger as the seconds ticked by, "Whatever you say." She reached for the wine glass and took another sip.

And it took Rachel all of three seconds to decide, "Rematch!"

She quickly pushed herself up onto her knees, facing Quinn, who was setting down the bottle of wine, and Rachel settled her hands on her hips as she waited for Quinn to assume the position.

And Quinn just stared up at her with hazel eyes wide, "What?"

Rachel gestured between them, speaking slowly, "Rematch. You and me, right here, right now. Winner takes all bragging rights."

Quinn bit her lip and stared at Rachel in contemplation for a few seconds before she shrugged and slowly made her way to her knees as well, lifting an eyebrow at Rachel, "You really want to… wrestle?"

"Label it however you want," Rachel shrugged, and she rolled her shoulders, and shook out her arms, then her hands.

A predatory glint appeared in Quinn's eye as she watched her movements, "You're on. I don't like to lose, Rachel."

"Me, neither!" she practically squealed as Quinn surged forward, and her hands were suddenly on Rachel's hips, forcing her backward. Her breath left her lungs as she landed on the carpet, and she was glaring up at Quinn, who was already looking triumphant, "That's not fair!"

The blonde was still wearing that smirk, and her face was flushing even darker, as she settled above Rachel, "Yeah, well, the first time you had an unfair advantage."

Rachel couldn't argue with that. But she could think strategically… and as soon as Quinn started to shift to adjust her grip, she struck. And she delighted in the surprised look in hazel eyes when she gripped Quinn's wrists and thrust all of her weight upwards, knocking Quinn off of her balance, and onto her back.

Quinn landed with a grunt, and Rachel work a proud smirk of her own as she swung her leg over the blonde's – trying to ignore the way her dress had ridden up. She settled her weight on Quinn's thighs, thinking about how easily Quinn had managed to hold her down with them.

Very… firm thighs, that were rubbing against her own, due to her shorts and the state of Quinn's dress. Very _soft_ thighs, she realized with a soft sigh that she didn't even realize escaped her.

And – damn it – she'd gotten unexpected distracted, and her face was warm as she landed on her back again. Quinn wasted no time this time around, as she pinned her wrists against the floor, and the rest of her weight settled over Rachel's hips this time.

She looked down at Rachel with a victorious smile, and upon seeing it, Rachel shook herself slightly out of her daze, and huffed out a breath as she squirmed, then arched her back, but she couldn't get out of the hold. She had no idea how, but Quinn seemed to have an iron grasp.

Her lip poked out in a pout, which nearly faded completely when she felt Quinn's hands slid so that her fingers were interlacing with hers in a surprisingly natural movement, and Rachel felt her heart start to race a little faster as questioning brown eyes locked onto hazel ones.

Hazel eyes that didn't quite give away anything, but Quinn was breathing heavily, as she murmured, "You're stronger than you look."

There was something about the way Quinn's voice sounded like that – with her over Rachel _so close_ and her voice so low and everything touching the way it was…

She was nearly too distracted to register what Quinn said, before she smiled lazily up at her, "I told you."

"Don't look so smug; you're still pinned," Quinn reminded her, and her voice notched even lower, practically _purring_ and Rachel's heart skipped a beat – or three – and her fingers flexed around Quinn's as a reflex.

The blonde squeezed hers back, and she watched as those hazel eyes traced softly over her face and – was it just her imagination or was Quinn's head moving closer to hers?

She held herself as still as possible because she didn't want this to be something she was making up in her head – and she found that she was _so ready_ for it –

Before the shrill ringing of a phone from a few feet away stole the moment, and the world came spinning back into focus around them. Quinn's eyes snapped back to hers, looking nearly dazed, and her hands loosened around Rachel's.

Disappointment struck through her, stronger than she would have suspected, before she managed to whisper, "You should probably get that." She was still a little out of breath, but she didn't think it was from the wrestling.

Quinn's eyebrows drew down low, before she shook her head, and muttered, "Right." And then she slid off Rachel's lap, crawling to reach her phone from her bag.

And Rachel continued to lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Her heart was racing and she was flushed and breathing heavily and her body was tingling, and… she wasn't clear yet if this made Quinn more mysterious or not, but it definitely made things a little different on her end.

* * *

 **Please let me know what you thought! Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to respond to the last chapter :) And thank you in general for reading!**


	3. The Moment

"I think Tinkerbell has a crush on Goldilocks," Alex surmised as he rolled onto his back from his spot on the floor, and Rachel was fairly proud of herself with how into the story everyone was.

Even Kurt, who had most certainly heard this all firsthand – including the more graphic parts. And she'd even caught the look on Beth's face when she'd slipped up and dropped her phone low enough to forget to feign disinterest.

Kurt nodded, a sly smile on his face, "I think so, too."

A smile pulled at her lips, "I think you might be on to something, Liz. That day was the day that Tinkerbell knew for sure she had feelings for Goldilocks."

When she was interrupted by a snort, she expected it to be Kurt – who _was_ looking at her skeptically – but it turned out to be Beth, who peered up at her over her phone when Rachel gave her an offended look, "Sorry, I thought it was pretty clear the whole time this story was being told."

Once more, Rachel squeezed her foot in retribution, which made Beth kick softly, instinctively. It was something Rachel had discovered when she'd started to bond with Beth, when the girl had been five, and the fact that though Beth was getting older and growing up – turning into the teen in front of her – that this would stay the same made her maintain her smile, even as she rolled her eyes.

"I suppose one of the best aspects of storytelling is that you can interpret characters any way you wish to," she nodded with finality as she prepared to get back into the story. Tinkerbell might have had some latent attraction for Goldilocks before the story even began, but who was Rachel to say that?

Just as she opened her mouth to pick up the tale, the front door slammed open in a manner that told Rachel that even though it was getting closer to the time that her wife should be home, whomever was arriving definitely _wasn't_ Quinn.

And it wasn't even that much of a leap that she had to make to Santana before she heard her voice ringing through the apartment, "Where are you?"

This was most definitely not a friendly greeting, and Rachel's eyebrows drew down in confusion as she exchanged looks with Kurt, who shrugged. Since reconnecting with Santana – via Quinn – ten years ago, she wouldn't say they'd become _best_ friends.

But – especially in the last five years since she and Brittany had moved to New York – they'd become family. And she knew the difference between a typical Santana I-sound-grouchy-but-this-is-just-me voice and the less frequent I'm-actually-pissed voice. This was most certainly the latter.

"Santana?" she called back, but it didn't matter anyway, as she could hear the other woman stomping in their direction, moments before she stood in the doorway, hands on her hips.

Rachel winced when she saw that Santana hadn't taken off her boots, and knew that she'd definitely tracked snow in from outside. But even if Santana _wasn't_ pissed, that wasn't an all too unfamiliar thing that happened.

Fury was blazing in dark eyes as Santana glared at her from across the room, her jaw set in anger, and Rachel wracked her brain to think of anything she could have done to piss her off lately.

But she came up empty; she hadn't even _seen_ Santana in almost a week, and at the time, the two of them had a fairly pleasant time as they'd gotten a drink after Rachel's rehearsal had ended at the same time that Santana had left the courthouse after winning a case.

"Where's Quinn?" Santana bit out as she surveyed the room, and Rachel knew she couldn't miss the looks of excited anticipation on all of the kids' faces.

Rachel partially wondered if it was an aspect to their generation that they were always amused by Santana's anger or if maybe it happened that it amused because that anger was never directed at them.

Regardless, she shook her hair back, "She's picking up my dads and her mom at the airport. What's wrong?"

She was met with a glare, before Santana crossed her arms and jerked her head to motion towards the hallway, "Out here."

"I'm in the middle of a story here, Santana," she informed her before Santana could storm away. She really wanted to be able to tell Goldilocks and Tinkerbell's whole story before they had to leave for dinner.

It seemed that didn't matter, because she was only met with a, "Now, Berry!"

And it wasn't as though she had really thought this was a joke – Santana did love to joke and tease and not always in a manner that Rachel shared pleasure in – but she knew that by Santana having her get up to speak in private meant serious business.

Now not only was she confused, but she was concerned. What could possibly have gotten under Santana's skin that she not only wanted to take it up with Rachel in private, but was apparently also something she wanted to discuss with Quinn?

With a gentle pat to Beth's feet, she excused herself to her audience and promised to be back momentarily as she followed Santana out into the hallway, "Is everything okay? What was so important that it couldn't wait an hour until you were supposed to meet us for dinner?"

Santana barely let her get the words out, "The whole reason you and Q are having us all over for this Big Love family shit is to tell us you're leaving. That you're moving."

Eyes wide, Rachel spared a look over her shoulder to the living room doorway and hoped that Santana hadn't been loud enough for them to hear, "What did you just say?"

"Don't even _try_ to deny it! Your apartment is listed," she finished with a smug, yet accusing tone.

It was really no wonder to Rachel that Santana had gone into law; the only thing she loved more than arguing was being right.

And Rachel was currently in no position to tell her that she was wrong, as she asked curiously, "How do you know that?"

Which just served to make Santana both smug and even more agitated, "So you admit it!"

She tossed her hands into the air in exasperation, "Didn't you _just_ say that I shouldn't even try to deny it?"

What she had to say at this point didn't matter, apparently, because Santana narrowed her eyes before she shook her head and started to furiously whisper, "I can't believe you're _moving_. Fucking moving. What about your musical? That shit hasn't even started yet!"

Rachel would admit that she got the tiniest bit of enjoyment from seeing Santana a little out of sorts, especially because it was becoming apparent that her anger was fueled by a deeper feeling of being left out of this big development. But still, she bit her lip, and shook her head, "Will you _please_ keep your voice down? We're telling everyone tonight at dinner." And Rachel wanted to have Quinn with her to tell everyone and explain everything.

"Aunt Rachel, come back for the story," James' voice carried out to them, and Rachel gave Santana a look before she stepped back.

With a sigh, she shook her head, "Let it go for now, please. Just until we all go out. You are more than welcome to stay for the rest of story time before we go to dinner."

She could practically sense Santana's reluctance in backing down on the subject, before the other woman kicked off her boots, as she grumbled, "I fucking knew it."

Rachel rolled her eyes as she turned to go back into the living room, only to be cut off by the other woman, "If I'm staying for some lame story, I'm taking your seat on the couch."

Brown eyes rolled once more, but she didn't argue; this was as much acquiescence as she could expect from Santana, who was often like a dog with a bone when she so much as caught a scent of something, especially something as big as this. Especially something as big as this, where Rachel had already basically confirmed to her that she wasn't _wrong_.

Within a minute, Santana had claimed Rachel's previous storytelling seat while Rachel made herself comfortable on the floor next to Kurt, "Now, where was I?"

It was James who informed her – from where he was laying on his stomach with his head propped up in his hands, as he stared up at her, "Tinkerbell and Goldilocks wrestled on the Fourth of July, and Tinkerbell likes Goldilocks."

She nodded, "Right," even as she lightly rubbed her hands together – because things were going to get even better.

But before she could continue, she was stopped by Liz, who asked, "Can you tell us what's going on with Goldilocks?"

For a moment, Rachel paused as she thought about it. But only for a few seconds – she knew every aspect of this story from the inside out, and not just her side of things, and she smiled slowly, "I'm glad you asked."

* * *

Quinn's summer had started off simply enough; she'd had a basic plan that consisted of a few elements. Firstly, she'd planned on directing the musical, making it as great as she possibly could while exploring her own possibilities in directing.

So far, that was going well. They were officially a month into rehearsals and they had a little under a month left, and there were still a few bumps in the road. And despite a slightly dubious beginning, having Rachel was actually proving to be very helpful. If for nothing else other than the fact that she _was_ so talented that Quinn could leave her be most of the time while she tried to work with the other leads. And some of Rachel's obsessive notes were useful to add to her own.

And she actually was enjoying directing.

But the second part of her plan had been infinitely more important; she was going to forge a stronger relationship with her daughter. And, by extension, Shelby. In the last couple of years, she'd had sparing contact with her – a few letters and pictures, and she'd met Beth enough that her daughter recognized her face.

She hadn't met her enough that they actually had a _relationship_ , and for all the effort she'd put in over the years to try to pretend that it didn't matter to her – that she didn't mind not really _knowing_ her daughter – it really, really did. Which was never more evident than this past year, after watching her sister have her own daughter.

To see her niece have all of those firsts that she never got to see with Beth; her first step, her first word… she had missed so much. So finding out that Shelby had moved to her home town with Beth this year seemed like the universe offering her a gift. An opportunity that she was going to take advantage of. She didn't want to miss everything.

So far, that part was going well, too. As well as they could be, she thought with a small sigh, and she looked over at Beth, who was coloring across from her where she was seated at the kitchen table.

Despite all of the many emotions that she experienced when she visited Beth, it was impossible not to just enjoy being here with her. Impossible not to smile at the look of concentration as she carefully – as carefully as a four-year-old could – traced her crayon over the picture of a dinosaur she was coloring.

Her hair, which had just started to darken in the last year into a light brown, was pulled into pigtails, and her forehead was scrunched up in concentration. She had hazel eyes – eyes _exactly_ like her own, but cuter, Quinn thought – and they stayed firmly staring down at her coloring page.

Her smile grew when Beth looked up at her with a wide grin of her own, "Done!"

"Can I see?" she asked, even as Beth was already eagerly showing her the page, sliding it across the table.

In the last few months, Beth had gotten very into dinosaurs. And space, but Quinn was fairly sure the two were unrelated. Still, when she'd arrived this morning, she'd given Beth the dinosaur themed coloring book that she'd seen when she was at the store the other day.

The freshly colored dinosaur in question was yellow pink with green spots, all meticulously colored in the lines, "I like him."

"It's a girl," Beth corrected, "It's for you!"

She didn't know if her smile could get any wider, "For me?"

"Mhmm, see, she's yellow like your hair and her spots are like your eyes! She's a Quinn-o-saur!" she proclaimed, before she reached for a black crayon and placed her hand onto the paper, before her head dipped and her brow furrowed in concentration again, as she carefully wrote the letter Q, and then she paused before giving Quinn a sheepish smile, "Can you tell me how to spell the rest again?"

The little girl had recently learned how to spell her own name, Mom, cat – in her fervent wish to obtain one – and the entirety of the alphabet. Honestly, Quinn felt like she could blink and Beth was going to be in high school.

Shaking her head slightly, she focused on the colors which now had a new meaning now that Beth had explained they were done for _her_ , as she spelled out, "U-I-N-N."

She loved the way Beth slowly, painstakingly wrote the letters she recited. Her daughter was a genius, she was pretty sure. And while it was hard to be here, to see Beth and know that she was missing things day-to-day, it was so much better to be a part of it on some level.

"Are you almost done with your picture, hon?" Shelby asked from the doorway, and Quinn's eyes flickered to where she stood, "We have to get going soon."

She'd been so focused on Beth that she hadn't even realized Shelby was back. It was something that happened every so often. Especially considering Shelby used the times that Quinn was with Beth to run most of her errands, so Quinn would easily lose track of time.

It surprised her to see that it had been almost an hour since she'd last checked the time. She'd been over for nearly four hours – since the late morning – and had kept Beth company while Shelby had run around to make all of her preparations for the trip she and Beth were making to Shelby's sister's house in Toledo, where they were going to be visiting for the next week and a half.

Beth pouted, "I don't _want_ to go! Can't we color _more_?"

She turned her eyes to Quinn, as if asking her to be on her side. And really, Quinn couldn't _be_ more on her side; she really didn't want them to go, either. For the last two months, since she'd returned from Yale after finals, she'd gotten to see Beth twice a week at least, and she wasn't ready to not see her.

Quinn already spent enough time trying not to think about how much time she was going to spend not seeing Beth when she went back to school after spending all of this time together.

But, she put all of that aside, because at the end of the day, she had to be on Shelby's side when it came to these things. Especially when she realized that the woman had given her an additional half hour with Beth, so she forced a slight smile, "We can when you come back. Maybe I'll see if I can find a space coloring book, too! And besides, you'll be able to play dinosaur with your cousins."

Which had been something Beth had excitedly told her earlier, and it worked to cheer her up again, a slow smile spreading across her face once more.

Shelby stepped forward and ran a light hand over one of Beth's pigtails, before tweaking the end, "Why don't you run upstairs and grab your backpack? It's all ready to go, on your bed."

Beth nodded and slid off of her chair before pausing to look up at Quinn, "Are you still going to be here when I come back?"

As if Quinn would leave without saying goodbye to Beth, "Of course."

It was enough to send her running up to get her stuff. Quinn sighed quietly and stood; it wasn't even like she could have spent much more time here, anyway. There was a rehearsal for the show in half an hour, but still.

Shelby stood a few feet away, arms crossed slightly, right in front of the counter where Quinn had put her purse. Before she took a step toward it, to safely tuck away her Quinn-o-saur, Shelby cleared her throat to get her attention.

And it was only then that she realized how uncomfortably the older woman was standing. She wouldn't say they had the most natural relationship, but things weren't generally uncomfortable between them, so she gave Shelby a questioning look.

It was enough to prompt her into asking, "So, how is… that musical coming along?"

Quirking her eyebrow up, Quinn answered slowly, "It's going well." _Why_ was on the tip of her tongue; this wasn't a typical avenue of conversation for the two of them. Which usually ranged from Beth to school and occasionally more general topics.

She only had moments for her suspicion to form, before Shelby confirmed it by sighing, "How is Rachel? In the musical, I mean," she was quick to add, though Quinn knew very well that wasn't all that she'd meant.

Shelby had managed to ask the question in a fairly casual way, but Quinn uniquely understood Shelby in that regard in a way that no one else they knew would be able to understand. All she had to do was look down at the coloring page she'd been given just minutes ago to remind herself that she _understood_.

But, she was torn, and she bit her lip in indecision. There was a _reason_ that Rachel wasn't coming here every week, and more than almost anything, she didn't want to betray a trust that she'd so recently managed to forge with Rachel.

Still, she knew the feeling of missing out, and she could sympathize on that front with Shelby, at least – though she knew there was plenty she wasn't in the loop on, when it came to the relationship between Rachel and the woman in front of her, so she settled on, "She's great. Which, is really no surprise," she added with a small smile, which sometimes seemed unavoidable when Rachel was involved these days. Her sister made sure to never let her forget about it.

It made Shelby smile, though, as she cleared her throat and nodded, "Good, that's… good." She opened her mouth to say more, and Quinn really wasn't sure she could have been happier about the timing of Beth running back into the room, neon colored backpack slung over her shoulders.

"I'm ready," she announced.

Shelby nodded, before she stepped back, and Quinn took that as her que, so she knelt down to be eye level with her daughter, "Have fun with your cousins."

Beth nodded and smiled, before she leaned forward to wrap her arms around Quinn's neck at the same time that she wrapped her own around Beth's waist, though she got momentarily caught up with the clunky backpack. For a few seconds she closed her eyes and just savor the moment.

And then it was over, and hazel eyes opened, as she bit her lip and tried to hold in the sigh that wanted to escape, as she pulled back, met with the same bright smile. It made it a little too difficult to not smile back, and Quinn's lips quirked up, "Bye."

"Bye, Quinn!" and then Beth's arms dropped and she stood back up before she completed her quiet goodbye to Shelby.

The ride to the theatre was quick, and from there, the rehearsal somehow both managed to fly by and drag on. They were all flying by lately it seemed, because time was running out and she wanted to make sure the show was going to be ready for when it opened. Next week, they were going to start doing whole show run-throughs, so getting all of the songs and the dances right _now_ was even more important.

So at the end of the whirlwind couple of hours, Quinn found herself a bit frustrated with Asher, who _did_ think he knew best when it came to certain things, like the way he wanted to deliver his lines in the final scene, despite the several times Quinn had gone over it with him.

When the time came to an end, Quinn dismissed everyone before pulling Asher to the side, and she couldn't keep her frustration out of her voice, "If I have to tell you _once_ at the next rehearsal to deliver your lines the way I've told you to, I swear I'm not afraid to act as Jekyll and Hyde myself."

The fact that his cocky smile waivered a bit was immensely satisfying. And then he was cocking out his hip slightly as he leaned in a bit, "Now _that_ would be an interesting show."

She opened her mouth to let her retort fall out, just as she saw over his shoulder Rachel walking out from backstage. Her clothes were changed from what Quinn deemed as her rehearsal-garb – usually lighter fitting items, that Rachel had told her in lengthy detail about how they made it easier for her to practice their dances – into a gray button down shirt that she tucked into a pair of shorts.

Unsurprisingly, ludicrously short shorts because it didn't seem that Rachel owned any other kind. Not that Quinn minded. At all. Because those mind-bogglingly long legs for someone so short would probably be Quinn's undoing. They _were_ the first things that ever made her really understand her sexuality.

It was only when Asher shifted that she realized he was even still there, and waiting on her to respond, so she murmured, "Yeah, it would be interesting."

Especially because if she was able to play Asher's Jekyll/Hyde role, she would be able to fucking finally kiss Rachel. Regardless of whether or not it would be onstage.

She tilted her head in consideration; Rachel didn't typically change before they went out for coffee. She also didn't usually wait for Quinn to finish talking to whomever she needed to talk to, which might have been one of the most entertaining things about Rachel – the fact that she pretended she _wasn't_ going to ask Quinn for every detail once they met at the Lima Bean.

But the pretend privacy was one of the many things about Rachel that amused her.

She thought maybe Rachel wanted to be here because it was Asher that she'd been reprimanding. Asher, who cleared his throat, and she tore her gaze away from Rachel to look back at him, narrowing her eyes as she remembered what they'd been saying, "Interesting because at the very least, I would know what I'm supposed to be doing."

He sighed, "I _know_ what you asked me to do, but don't you think it would make it a little more dramatic –"

"We don't _need_ more drama. We're talking about a scene in which you're going to kill yourself; stick to the script. I mean it," she lifted her eyebrow at him, when he crossed his arms and leaned in a little more.

Which made her lean back, and she met Rachel's eyes over his shoulder, who offered her a small wave and a smile. Oh, Rachel was definitely pleased that she was saying something to Asher. Quinn wasn't entirely positive what it was, but the two of them didn't exactly get along.

But she could hazard a few guesses, considering both of them felt they were the most talented person in the production. And only one of them was right. She let one side of her mouth quirk into the tiniest of smiles for Rachel's benefit, before looking at Asher again.

Who seemed to get the mistaken idea that the smile was intended for him, because his smug smile was already returning, which killed hers into a scowl, "Tell me you understand and that you're going to do it right next time. That's the only thing I want to hear from you."

He nodded, "Yes, Madame Director."

"Good. And if you're as talented as you think you are, we shouldn't have to have this talk again, right?" she challenged, and she felt satisfied when he finally dropped back into a defensive stance and crossed his arms.

Before he reluctantly agreed, "Right." He shifted from one foot to the other, and now that _that_ conversation was done with, Quinn felt even less inclined to give him her attention, and she looked around him to see that Rachel had gathered up all of Quinn's own notes and belongings and had placed them next to her bag.

She shook her head slightly as she wondered _what_ Rachel was up to.

"So, Quinn, it seems that we're the final few people around," Asher started to say, and Quinn snapped her eyes back to him, because she could already tell what this was leading up to, "And it's dinner time. What do you say –"

She cut him off before he could get any farther, "Actually, I have plans."

The frown that crossed over his face might have been amusing if he wasn't so irritating in general, "You do?"

"Yes, with Rachel," she nodded her head to where the brunette was standing, now looking expectantly up at them. She knew Rachel was too far away in the seating area to actually hear them, but she still shot them – shot Quinn, she liked to think – that radiant smile.

Asher turned to look at her, too, before he sighed, "Okay. Maybe I'll see you –"

"At the next rehearsal," she cut in, and nodded at him before she turned to face Rachel, who had her hands clasped in front of her as she looked up at her and waited for Quinn to walk toward her.

Rachel was the part of this summer that she _hadn't_ planned on.

There had been no possible way that she could have predicted she would see Rachel Berry in Lima. Not that it was a crazy possibility – Rachel's dads _did_ live there, after all – but she had it on relatively good authority that Rachel had gone to New York and hadn't looked back. And despite the fact that they weren't exactly friends in high school, she'd known as everyone had that Rachel was definitely going places. She was going wherever she wanted to go.

It would be a lie to say that she hadn't thought of Rachel since high school, and Quinn wasn't in the habit of lying to herself anymore. But it was only natural to think about the person who you'd been halfway in love with in high school from time to time. Not that she'd really recognized her feelings for what they were at the time.

Or, more aptly, not that she'd ever allowed herself to acknowledge her feelings for what they were at the time.

But she'd thought that Rachel and the repressed feelings she'd had for her were things of the past for over two years, until the day that Rachel had attempted to sneak attack her outside of Shelby's a little over a month ago. She might have gotten a concussion out of it – and been entirely unsure of how to react – but then Rachel was just _everywhere_ it seemed.

In high school, she'd felt like Rachel was everywhere she turned. She was wearing short skirts whenever Quinn would walk into a shared classroom, and she was singing with that amazing voice every time Quinn walked by the auditorium, and she was hand-in-hand with Quinn's ex-boyfriend whenever she walked down the hallways. She was always _there_ and never backing down, even when Quinn could say the worst things imaginable.

Quinn had hated it, and the way it made her feel.

But it seemed that the only way Rachel knew how to exist in her life was to always be around, because that was what happened all over again. First at Shelby's, and then at the musical, and then… showing up to Quinn's house to look all adorable and apologetic. And even more than that, bringing Quinn coffees and asking her to join her on trips to the Lima Bean.

She definitely _didn't_ hate it now. It was the opposite of hatred, and those feelings only grew the more she time she got to spend with the brunette. Who was every bit as funny and cute and impetuous and talented and self-assured as Quinn both remembered and thought she would be, when she'd thought about getting to know Rachel better in high school. But it was even better now, because now they were both a little older, a little more mature, and, in her own case, much more knowledgeable about herself.

If Shelby moving to Lima and giving her the opportunity to know Beth even more this summer was the universe giving her a gift, Rachel coming into the picture was like the universe tying it all up with a pretty little bow.

The only downfall was it seemed like they were walking a tightrope at times. They'd become friends, for sure. Quinn had no doubt that Rachel enjoyed their time together and enjoyed her. She was trying to get a better feel for exactly where Rachel stood before deciding to make any moves.

While Rachel – with her dads and Kurt as her best friend – was perhaps one of the most gay-friendly person she'd ever met, Quinn didn't want to make anything between their newfound friendship awkward with a non-reciprocated move. She could wait.

When she got to Rachel, she checked to see if Asher was still there before she teased, "You must have been really excited for me to tell him off."

Which made Rachel's forehead crinkle in confusion for a moment, before it smoothed into a smile with a small laugh, "Oh, no. Well, actually, _yes_ , that was nice. But that's not why I stayed."

Quinn grinned, even as she asked, "Why did you stay? Afraid I would get so caught up that I'd forget to meet you for our coffee date?"

Even as the word date rolled off her tongue, she paused to check Rachel's response. But other than a very slight coloring in her cheeks, there was nothing aside from a cute, playful smile, "I would never believe you could forget me because of Asher, Quinn. However, I was wondering…" she trailed off for a moment, before clasping both of her hands behind her back, "Well, my dad is in Cleveland at the new house, and daddy had to work tonight, so he dropped me off," she peered up at Quinn with those dark eyes.

Quinn found herself smirking, "And you come to me to ask for a ride? I don't know… bringing you to the place we meet for coffee every single day is kind of asking for a lot."

In all actuality, she found it both ridiculously endearing and exasperating that Rachel actually questioned at all whether or not Quinn would bring her to the Lima Bean. Like there was any time in the last month that Quinn _hadn't_ jumped at the chance to spend time with her.

When she moved to reach for her bag, she appreciated the way Rachel offered it to her, already neatly packed, as they started walking out of the theatre, and when Rachel nudged her with her shoulder lightly, it sent a little shiver through her, " _Actually_ , I was thinking that since my fathers would be out tonight, and rehearsal ran a little late, perhaps you would like to go out to dinner with me."

Quinn's heart seemed to skip a beat as she cut her eyes toward Rachel, who was just doing that thing where she bit her lip and smiled, all genuinely, and she wondered – not for the first time – how someone could be equal parts mysterious and transparent.

But then she wondered if it even really _mattered_ because the options were for her to go home and have dinner with her mother and sister, or have dinner with Rachel. As a friend or _more_ , it didn't really matter.

It was due to several reasons that they chose to go to the Italian restaurant down the street from the theatre; it was convenient, they were both already starving, it had much better food than Breadstix, and had a variety of vegetarian options.

As she watched Rachel order, Quinn ran her eyes down the column of Rachel's throat, taking in the smooth, tan skin, before she took in the soft smile the brunette gave to the waiter before she handed him her menu and turned to face Quinn.

And her smile dimmed a bit in confusion as she tilted her head, all that smooth, dark hair falling to the side a bit as she asked, "What is it?"

It was only then that she realized she'd been caught staring, and Quinn shook her head, "Nothing," she murmured.

Her slight embarrassment didn't last long, though, as Rachel leaned in to say, "Might I ask why you had a picture of a dinosaur in with your play notes?"

For a second she paused in thought, before she leaned forward as well, putting her elbow on the table as she smirked, "Going through my things, Berry?"

And she took a lot of pleasure in the quickly guilty look on Rachel's face, "I – no!" she huffed out a breath before she straightened her shoulders, "I would never simply rifle through your belongings; I just happened to see it when I was gathering your papers for you and putting them into your bag."

The fact that Rachel could look guilty and indignant at the same time didn't surprise her, but it did delight her. Even so, she let her off the hook, "It's okay – it's from Beth. It's a Quinn-o-saur," she repeated her daughter's word from earlier, grinning for a moment at the thought before it slightly fell away.

She and Rachel hadn't had many more conversations about Shelby and Beth since the Fourth, which had been almost two weeks ago. For some reason, even though they didn't talk about it much, it made her feel better knowing that Rachel understood – relatively – what she was feeling.

It made her feel like on some level, they went through some of it together.

Rachel frowned momentarily, before she seemed to catch herself and she shook her head, "That's cute. She's – Beth – she's cute," Rachel settled on.

And Quinn, who knew now that Rachel hadn't known about Beth before this summer – beyond the fact that she had been the daughter Quinn had given up after she gave birth to her – caught herself enjoying the fact that the words didn't seem to be forced from Rachel despite whatever other feelings she had about the whole thing.

Plus, she of course loved the fact that Rachel thought Quinn's daughter was cute. It was both some pride and vanity, and the fact that she thought Beth was the cutest child to walk the planet, and she found her smile coming back with more force, as she agreed, "She is. Maybe, if you want, I can get her to color you a Rachel-o-saur."

It worked to make the brunette laugh, "It doesn't quite have the same ring to it. But I wouldn't want Quinn-o-saur to be lonely."

If that wasn't enough to make Quinn's entire being warm, she didn't know what was. "Quinn-o-saur would probably really like Rachel-o-saur's company," her voice dipped and she had no control over it. Really. There were moments that Rachel could be so _Rachel_ that flirting comments just slipped out.

But instead of the impish smile she usually got in return – or even better, a flirty comment back, Rachel tilted her head in question and grew quiet for a few moments as she took a sip of her water and asked, "Was Asher asking you out? Again, before we left?"

Hazel eyes rolled, as she nodded, "He definitely doesn't understand the meaning of the word no when it comes to asking someone out."

And, really, Quinn was _done_ with it. For the sake of the fact that at this point it was too late to get rid of him as the lead, she managed to not jump down his throat as best she could.

"Brush-offs certainly don't seem to deter him, either," Rachel threw in, before she looked up at her, dark eyes wide and wondering, "I do appreciate that you respect the integrity of the musical enough to not engage in a personal relationship with Asher. Not that you would, regardless, because if this time has shown us anything, it's that he doesn't have the charm that he thinks he has, but still. You… wouldn't be dating him, even if the musical wasn't happening, right?"

Quinn snorted derisively, before it morphed into a short laugh, because, "Not a chance."

Rachel gave her a relieved look, "Thank goodness."

Quinn held her breath and waited for a moment, taking her bottom lip between her teeth. This could be a good moment to bring up her sexual orientation. The topic hadn't exactly come up in the last month, but it had been on the tip of her tongue several times.

Especially since the Fourth, when the tip of her tongue had been closer to touching Rachel's than having any sort of discussion on the matter.

She licked her lips and tried to shake herself out of the memory, though the thought of having Rachel pressed under her like that and breathing all heavily was burned into her senses. Clearing her throat quietly, she reached for her own water glass and watched Rachel over the top of it as she asked, "Have I given you the impression that I could have possibly been interested in him?"

Because, even though Quinn _was_ trying to do this slowly and properly – getting to know Rachel, before trying to see if there could be something else – if there was anyone on the cast that she would have to hold herself back from to maintain the integrity of the show, it was clearly the woman across from her.

Quinn honestly had no idea how Rachel could possibly think otherwise.

And she watched Rachel as Rachel's dark eyes tracked her mouth as she licked her lips again and then took a slow sip. It made her stomach dip pleasantly, and she grinned in satisfaction, before Rachel hummed for a moment and leaned back, "Well, he clearly has some sort of feelings for you and I've heard something to the effect that he would like to date you. And, we're friends, so I thought maybe we could benefit from a conversation about it all."

Deciding to put Rachel's admittedly cute ramble out of its misery, she cut in, "I'm a lesbian, Rachel."

She paused for a few seconds to determine Rachel's reaction. Which turned out to be an adorable flush that snuck up on her cheeks, before her face scrunched up into confusion again, "But – in high school? You _hated_ me because of Finn!"

Indecision warred within her, and she bit her lip, holding onto Rachel's gaze before she answered, "It turns out that was a huge case of denial."

Those dark eyes lit up as Rachel looked like she'd discovered a whole new world to explore and Quinn didn't know if that was a good thing for her or not, but it didn't stop the slight thrill that ran through her as Rachel asked, "So you disliking me had more to do with your sexuality than anything else?" she sounded so hopeful about it.

Which… kind of made Quinn's stomach twist in shame at her repressed HBIC self, "Yeah…" Rachel seriously had no idea _how_ true that was. But she shook her head, "Rachel, I know we've become friends now, and you've seen how much I've changed, but I _am_ sorry for the way I treated you, back then."

Her apology made Rachel's gaze go all soft in a way that made her stomach erupt in butterflies that had absolutely nothing to do with guilt and more of infatuation. Rachel nodded, her mouth turned into a small, accepting smile, "I certainly appreciate that, Quinn. But as you just said, we are both beyond that now. And I like to think that anything that happened in high school helped make me a stronger person."

She couldn't help but just stare at the woman across from her in something akin to admiration mixed with adoration. Quinn knew from personal experience as Lucy that if her former tormenters came to her to apologize, she wouldn't accept it nearly as graciously.

Then again, she'd always known on some level that Rachel was special. It was just now that she'd finally gotten to dive in to have the in-depth experience with her.

"Not to mention, you came from such a Christian household that battling your own inner-demons about your sexuality must have taken a toll," Rachel added matter-of-factly.

 _You have no idea_ , Quinn thought, _especially with you_.

And then her view was obstructed by their waiter returning to their table with their dishes, and Quinn had to work to keep the glare away. She felt like a potential moment had been ruined.

The rest of their time went by far too quickly for her taste, and before she knew it, she was parking in front of the Berry house. The car windows were rolled down, because the night had cooled the weather down enough to be pleasant, and she was content to relish the moment just like this.

With Rachel sitting next to her and singing softly along with Quinn's Classic 60's CD with a soft smile, and the scent and feel of the summer air between them. And when Rachel turned to face her with a soft smile, Quinn felt it right in her chest, before she brunette stopped singing and quietly spoke, "Thank you for the ride, Quinn."

She waved off her words of thanks, before she turned in her seat and the question that had formed in her mind with the idea that it was _nice_ to drive around with Rachel in her car slipped out, "So, is your dad still going to be in Cleveland tomorrow? And your daddy working the same shift?"

Rachel bit her lip as she thought about it, before she shook her head, "I'm not sure. Why?"

Quinn rolled her eyes even as she enjoyed the look of abject confusion on Rachel's face at her question. Either she was worse at this than she thought or Rachel was more oblivious than Quinn had thought, but it was probably a mixture of both, "I'm asking if you want me to pick you up tomorrow, too."

Rachel's look of confusion disappeared, before she shook her head, "Well, I wouldn't want to impose on your schedule, Quinn."

Slightly exasperated, she shook her head with a wry smile, "Rachel, we're going to the same place, you live like five minutes away from me, and after we get out of rehearsal we're going to get coffee together. It just makes sense. And you're not an imposition," she added, just to clear _that_ thought away.

But when Rachel didn't respond right away, Quinn started to tap her fingers against the middle console as her smile started to slip.

But any worries faded within a moment as Rachel gave her a wide smile, "Then, that sounds perfect, Quinn. It _does_ make much more sense." Then she gave her an entirely too serious look, "But make sure to be right on time, we don't want to be late to the theatre."

Quinn quirked an eyebrow, "Only one of us has been late to rehearsal so far, Rachel. And it wasn't me."

Rachel huffed as her eyes widened, "You know that it was because Laura contacted me at the very last minute and asked for a ride! What was I supposed to do, let rehearsal continue without our Emma?"

She shrugged, voice light, "You were still late."

Rachel shook her head as she unbuckled her seatbelt, "I will see you tomorrow, Quinn. Five minutes early."

"I'll be here," she promised, and took pleasure in the way Rachel's faux-annoyed look transformed into a smile as she opened her door she got out. And then turned around at the door to give Quinn a wave.

It was a natural progression from that night to start to spend even more time together. They maintained their daily coffee dates, but she was driving Rachel to and from rehearsals – except on the occasions where Rachel insisted it was only fair for her to drive Quinn, too. Several nights, they would get dinner together in place of coffee.

And as the next week passed, Quinn vacillated between whether or not the time was going to come that she should bring up the fact that when Rachel gave her those full body hugs, she felt warm all over or when she was given brilliant smiles that her heart skipped a beat. Or was that something she should keep to herself? Did it just happen that the _moments_ she thought they were having were byproducts of the fact that Rachel was very touchy with her friends?

Was there even the possibility that Rachel could have the same feelings? Though Quinn did have a lot on her mind this summer, she'd be lying if she said that these questions weren't becoming very prominent.

The quandary of where-Rachel-stood became resolved on one fateful day a little over a week after their initial dinner.

It so happened that Quinn had had to drive her mother to pick up her car from getting serviced, so rather than drive together to the Lima Bean, she and Rachel had decided to just meet there for their afternoon coffee.

Rachel had already sent her a text to let her know that the brunette had not only beat her there, but had also already gotten Quinn her coffee and was waiting at a table. So when she'd entered the café, she paused to look around as she ran a hand through her hair and felt relieved with the air conditioning.

And she felt happier, stomach doing a somersault that it just so happened to do whenever she first laid eyes on the brunette – strangely, a habit that never disappeared after high school. That initial reaction only lasted for a second though, before it became remarkably darker when she realized who was standing next to Rachel's table.

It might have been a few years since high school, but it would take someone dimmer than Finn himself to mistake that tall, oafish stance. Quinn had barely spoken to Finn after their disastrous, immature relationship had imploded sophomore year, what with his burgeoning feelings for Rachel, her reaction to that – not to mention the not-so-small matter of her pregnancy.

But really, there hadn't been anything about being with Finn that she'd missed. Her sexuality aside, he really wasn't the brightest. And… she might have spent the latter part of their high school years beyond jealous of him for being with Rachel.

One of the best things she'd found out about Rachel this summer was that not only had she long broken up with Finn, but they weren't even in contact anymore, beyond their mutual connection with Kurt. Because even if Quinn had no chance with Rachel, she refused to believe Finn did, at this point in their lives.

She narrowed her eyes at the pair – she was too far away to hear their conversation, but she could still see Rachel's small smile. Though, it did look like more of a polite smile than anything else. Especially because when it came to Rachel, a smile could say a thousand words, many of them warm and inviting.

Her scowl could probably be seen a mile away, and it reflected the bad taste in the back of her mouth that seeing the two of them together gave her. Bad memories.

But like hell was she going to stand there at the entrance any longer – Finn was interrupting _their_ outing. Hers and Rachel's. This was their time together, and god only knew that the summer was ticking by quicker than she would like. There was only a month left before both she and Rachel were going to go back to their college lives again.

And she wasn't going to waste time on one of their coffee dates for Finn freaking Hudson, so with that in mind, she pressed her shoulders back and walked forward, maneuvering her way around some tables before she drew up next to the pair.

Those enticing dark eyes turned to look at her, and Quinn _knew_ she was right about that polite smile, because the way it grew upon seeing her was the trademark Rachel Berry grin that she was used to, "Quinn! You're _late_ ," she added with a teasing lilt.

She acknowledged the nod to their conversation the other day, but couldn't let herself fully enjoy Rachel's playfulness when Finn was standing there. Though she did feel triumphant at his confused look that first focused on her, before it went back to Rachel, "The friend you were meeting for coffee is… _Quinn_? Since when are you two friends?"

Rachel's smile dimmed a bit again as she looked up at him, "Quinn and I have formed a fairly strong bond this summer. We've been working on a musical together."

It was a vicious satisfaction that ran through her at the displeasure on Finn's face, and she smirked as she reached for her coffee, "A strong bond," she repeated, mostly for her own benefit.

He shook his head before stepping back, "I guess I should probably go." His gaze flickered back and forth between them, his confusion still evident, and Quinn barely managed to hold back her agreement.

Instead, she just stared him down, eyebrow lifted. And she didn't look away until after Rachel said a goodbye, and Finn walked away.

Hazel eyes narrowed once more at his back before she turned to look at Rachel, and she was already asking, "You're not still interested in him, right?" before she could note the amused smile on Rachel's face.

The smile then fell, replaced by a look on Rachel's face that let Quinn know that Rachel thought she was crazy, "Finn?"

"Obviously," she felt compelled to drawl, but she was having a bit of an inward celebration at the way Rachel scrunched up her face, confirming what Quinn had already thought. But… the slight bit of residual jealousy that must have been lurking inside of her needed to make sure.

"I haven't even seen him in over two years. We talked about this before," Rachel said softly, slowly, as she narrowed her eyes in contemplation and ran them over Quinn's face.

And Quinn resisted the urge to squirm, because she felt like Rachel was reading her or using those ridiculously deep, dark eyes to look into her soul.

She shifted back in her seat, bringing her coffee up to take a sip to distract herself, as she muttered, "I know. I was just… checking."

The knowing look that came over Rachel's face followed by what looked like almost a smug smile, almost made Quinn's heart stop before Rachel murmured, "If you must know, my tastes have… changed slightly since high school."

It must have been the millionth time that she flashed back to their playful wrestling, quickly followed by all of their _moments_ , and her eyebrow lifted in question, "Yeah? How so?"

Rachel's tongue flicked out and slowly ran over her bottom lip, and heat flashed through her at the deliberate move before she answered, "I'm more interested in people who are more mature. Who know what they want and have ambitions," she paused to take a sip of her tea, before she added on, "Men and women who fit the description."

The world felt like it was spinning to a pause, and Quinn froze with it, s her mind raced to catch up with everything that had been said, before a slow smirk made its way onto her face, even as her heart was racing with excitement.

It was so on.

She held dark eyes with her own while her stomach dipped, and she re-crossed her legs under the table, "Is that so?"

Rachel lightly drew her fingertip around her cup before she brought it to full lips once more as she hummed in agreement, and right there, Quinn's mind made itself up: screw whatever thoughts she'd had about waiting things out. Waiting was done. She'd waited long enough for this.

Her new goal of the summer would be something she'd wanted since high school. To know what it would be like to _be_ with Rachel Berry.

And her time was ticking down, which she acknowledged right away. Quinn wanted to get this _right_ ; she'd been waiting for the time to be with Rachel for years. She'd even thought she'd missed the opportunity for it to actually happen, or that it would just be stupid to hold onto any sort of hope.

She wanted to make it special somehow – more special than blurting her feelings out at the Lima Bean – when she showed or told Rachel how she felt, but also didn't want to waste any more time. Though there was a bit of nerves involved, she mostly felt exhilarated as she went about making plans. She'd confessed her feelings to other people before, and it really wasn't that difficult to make them known.

Rachel knew about her sexual orientation, and she knew Rachel's. She now knew without a shadow of a doubt that they'd had _moments_ – the eye contact that lasted a little too long, the checking each other out – and getting caught doing so, the flirtatious smiles, the coffee dates. The fucking wrestling. It was all there between them; thrilling and electric. Now it was just the matter of taking the next step forward.

Which was how she found herself running around her house later that week, on Saturday evening. The whole running into Finn thing was fresh on her mind, and the fact of the matter was that if it wasn't Finn, it could be any number of people who could interrupt the two of them. Lima wasn't that big of a place, and they had exes here, a full cast and crew, family members – all of whom could easily ruin the mood Quinn intended to set.

And she didn't want to take her chances.

So she'd invited Rachel to come over for dinner. Where she could set the mood herself – and she did, with candles and flowers, not to mention the fact that she was cooking a vegan lasagna that she knew Rachel would love. Plus, she had it on good authority that the brunette wasn't a stellar cook, and she'd been even more reliant on takeout this summer than she wanted to be, given how hectic everything was with the move. She was definitely going to like a home cooked meal.

She even had some vegan ice cream from the best ice cream place she knew of which was two towns over, as well as a copy of _Funny Girl_ , mostly because she knew Rachel really wanted to watch it with her once she'd heard that Quinn hadn't seen it in like ten years.

"Quinnie, honey, have you ever made that lasagna before? It smells very good," her mom commented from the doorway of the kitchen.

And nearly made Quinn jump from surprise, her heart hammering in her chest, "Mom! I thought you left already!"

Her mother was supposed to be spending the night out with some of her friends from her bridge club. Which was one of the things Quinn was banking on – having the house to herself.

Judy frowned, "I'm _going_ , dear. I just needed to come grab my keys," she tsk'd at Quinn as she reached for the key rack and slid her car keys off, "If you have any lasagna left after your date, I would appreciate some."

Hazel eyes rolled, but she couldn't help but give her a long-suffering smile, "Okay, mom."

"So it _is_ a date!" her mom's eyes lit up, "I do like that Rachel girl, sweetie. She has manners."

Quinn accepted it with a pleased smile. Not that she'd really introduced her mother to the women she'd dated in the past and it wasn't like she needed her approval, but… it was nice.

Still, she walked up to her mom and made some shooing gestures with her hands, "She _does_ have manners, and she _is_ nice, but this isn't officially a date yet. And in order to make it official, I need to not have my mom hanging around."

Judy let out an offended gasp, but nonetheless turned around – before throwing Quinn a knowing smile over her shoulder, "Trust me, if your dinner tastes as good as it looks, and I know it will because I taught you to cook, it will become a date. If Rachel knows what's good for her."

Her lips quirked into a smile before she gave her mom a quick kiss on the cheek, "Have a good night."

The older woman responded in kind, before she walked away, and Quinn waited to hear the front door close behind her for good measure, before she breathed a sigh of relief. The dining room was set up, the house was officially empty, salad was made, wine, the same kind they'd drank together on the Fourth just for good measure, was chilling –

The timer on the stove went off, and she quickly took the lasagna out to cool, eyeing it critically, before a triumphant smile slid over her face.

And the lasagna was done and looking damn good, if she did say so herself.

She carefully lifted the apron she'd used to protect her dress, and hung it back up as she looked at the time. Rachel would be there any time in the next ten minutes, which gave Quinn just enough time to double check everything.

Or not, because the sound of the doorbell ringing echoed throughout the house. Her stomach fluttered in excitement – a little bit of nerves, too – and she quickly rushed to the front foyer. Really, she should have _known_ that Rachel was going to be early. That was her mistake.

Just short of the door, she stopped, and ran her hand lightly over her dress, a small, confident smirk coming over her features. If her dinner, dessert, movie, and overall ambiance, needed any extra help, her dress would _definitely_ provide.

Honestly, she hadn't thought she would really need her form-fitting dark red number that Santana once termed her "lady killer" dress this summer, but she was immensely glad she had it. She'd seen Rachel checking her out a handful of times, and she was pretty sure the look in those dark eyes when she saw her in this dress would be everything.

Shaking her head back lightly, she reached for the handle and was already smiling in anticipation, "You're early."

The words died on her lips along with her smile, as soon as it was revealed that Santana and Brittany were on the other side of the door. The brunette gave her a sardonic smile, "And here I was, not even knowing you were expecting us!"

Quinn rolled her eyes at her friends, "I wasn't."

In true Santana fashion, she pushed past Quinn and into the house as Brittany bounced in behind her, "Quinn! You look really pretty," she got out before she pulled Quinn into a hug.

* * *

"What are Goldilocks's friend's names?" Alex asked, breaking into her concentration.

And Rachel opened her mouth to answer before she froze. Crap. Did Goldilocks even have friends? "Um, she was actually friends with two… bears."

Liz narrowed her eyes in thought, "Bears? Like the three bears?"

She nodded, "Yes. They lived in the village forest that Goldilocks and Tinkerbell were both from. Not the ones whose porridge Goldilocks ate, though."

"What are their names?" James piped in from where he was laying, now with his head resting on Rachel's lap.

Now it was Santana who cut in, with a knowing smirk, "Yeah, Berry, what are their names?"

She glares at Santana for a moment before answering, "Their names are, uh, Nice Bear and Naughty Bear," she shot Santana a haughty look before realizing her mistake.

"Wanky."

* * *

Which she reluctantly returned, but tried to keep an eye on Santana at the same time, "Thanks, Britt. But what are you guys doing here?"

"Your best friends, who you haven't seen for months, arrive back in town and you question what they're doing at your house?" Santana asked as she turned to face Quinn, "I'm hurt."

She scoffed, "Sure you are." Both Brittany and Santana had been living out in L.A. since after graduation, and Quinn only saw them a few times a year now. She _did_ miss them – though she spoke to the both of them often enough, "But I thought we were getting together tomorrow."

She'd actually been looking forward to it. What she _wasn't_ looking forward to was having her worlds collide. More aptly, having Rachel turn up for their date – that she didn't even really know was a date yet – while Santana and Brittany were still here, being… well, Santana and Brittany.

Santana nodded, a slow smile climbing onto her face, "Look at you – wearing the lady killer, and I smell some home cooking… do you have a lady friend coming over? Perhaps a lady friend that you've been so tightlipped about for the last month?"

Quinn scowled, "I _told_ you, I don't have any _lady friends_ ," as of yet.

"Yeah, but you still haven't told us who it is that you've been spending all of your damn time with this summer. Half the time either of us call you, you're busy with her," Santana tossed back at her, before she started to wonder into the direction of the dining room.

Quinn followed, even as Brittany agreed with Santana from behind her, calling out, "It's true. When I called to tell you about Lord Tubbington's caffeine addiction, you were getting coffee with her."

She really tried to stop Santana from actually reaching the dining room, but it was too late, and she grit her teeth in annoyance when her friend snickered, "You are going all out for this chick, Q."

Reaching out, she snagged Santana's hand before she could go any farther, "Santana, stop," she kept her voice low, and maintained eye contact with her, as she sighed, "Look, I _am_ happy to see you. Maybe not right this second," she added flatly, and it made Santana bark out a laugh, "And I know it's been driving you crazy not knowing who I've been going out with. But, I'll tell you everything tomorrow."

The brunette sighed, "Yeah, fine. But dinner _does_ smell pretty good," she added with a devilish smile.

"And you aren't going to experience it," she informed her, before she quickly pulled her into a hug… and then promptly started walking her back to the front door, frowning when she realized Brittany hadn't followed them.

But Brittany had a few spots in her house that she liked to hang out in, so it wouldn't be that hard to track her down. In fact, she realized with a sinking feeling, it wasn't going to be difficult at all – because she could hear Brittany from where she was, taking brightly – and not to herself, she realized, when she could hear Rachel speak back.

She couldn't hold in her frustrated groan, because this was so, so far from how she wanted tonight to go, as she walked faster and entered the foyer just in time to see a small, confused smile on Rachel's face, and a big one on Brittany's, as she announced, "Quinn, Rachel Berry is here! From high school! I didn't even recognize her, with her nice clothes."

With Rachel's vaguely uncomfortable smile to Santana's burst of laughter behind her, Quinn wished more than anything that she could have changed this whole start.

That _she_ could have been the one to answer the door and have the few moments that she needed to take in the way Rachel looked in the little black dress she wore. And she _did_ wear it, so, so well. Those long legs were on display, along with the subtle curves of her hips, and a modest cleavage that was enough to make her mouth water.

That she could have opened the door and really enjoyed the way Rachel's eyes widened upon seeing her, before slowly raking over her in a way that made Quinn feel like the brunette was practically touching her, before they darkened visibly.

And those moments were fucking _ruined_ , with Santana laughing behind her.

"Your lady friend is Berry? I should have guessed it," Santana poked her in the hip, a mischievous grin still plastered all over her face. Her friend was getting far, far too much enjoyment from this, as Quinn had known she would. Santana let out another laugh, "You've been spending all of your fucking time with Rachel Berry."

Quinn couldn't even deny that she'd been spending a ton of time with Rachel. It had never been her style, spending so much time with someone that she had feelings for, or even someone she was in a relationship with. When she'd been dating men, she'd liked as much distance as possible, and _that_ made complete sense now. But even in her last couple of years dating women, she still valued ample space.

But she enjoyed seeing Rachel as often as possible. She craved even more closeness – obviously.

She felt herself flush even as she growled and swatted at Santana's hand, "Shut up." Before she took a deep breath re-focused on Rachel. Despite their less than ideal environment, it wasn't hard to smile, when she took in the brunette, "I'm sorry," Rachel had no idea just how sorry she was, "I didn't invite them over, I swear."

But Rachel's smile became slightly less uncomfortable, and melted into more of a natural one, "It's quite all right, Quinn. They're… your friends," she finished quietly, and though it wasn't a question, it sounded a little bit like one.

Probably because Quinn hadn't really talked about Brittany and Santana with Rachel this summer.

"Her best friends, just back from L.A.," Santana interjected, before she walked up in front of Rachel, and Quinn closed her eyes tightly, trying to rein in her annoyance, "You're looking good, Berry."

"Um, thank you, Santana. You're also looking… well," Rachel settled on, as she gave Santana a nod, though she crossed her arms over herself and shifted back and forth on her feet. Feet that were settled into heels that made her legs seem like they were skyrocketed even higher, and Quinn wanted to throttle her friends even more when she noticed them.

Those heels. Rachel had worn those heels and a little black dress to come over for dinner with her, at her house. She'd known Rachel really wasn't as oblivious as she might have thought.

The girl in question cleared her throat, and Quinn's gaze snapped to hers, as Rachel bit her lip, "If you'd like some time together, I suppose I could –"

Quinn practically jumped forward before Rachel could finish that, "No! No, you should stay. I'm going to see _them_ tomorrow," she finished with a growl and a not-so-subtle head nod to the door for Santana's benefit.

Which she silently cursed herself for. She knew Santana better than that. Her friend's smirk grew to impossible lengths, "Well, we _could_ go. If we were interrupting something special. A date, maybe, but since you don't have any lady friends, I don't think it should be an issue, right? Besides, Brittany and I haven't eaten, and your dinner does smell pretty good…"

At this, Brittany nodded, "We haven't had anything to eat since this morning, Quinn."

If Quinn thought she could get away with murdering them – mostly Santana – right here and now, without completely horrifying Rachel, she might have tried it. As it was, she narrowed her eyes toward her best friend and practically hissed out, "It's _vegan_."

Though she did take some satisfaction in the way Santana visibly blanched, she'd known it wouldn't be enough to fully put her off, not when she was taking so much pleasure in this, "I gotta eat some healthy shit every now and then."

She made her mind up then that despite the fact that it would look beyond rude, she was going to kick them out. She didn't want to have to wait even fucking longer for this moment with Rachel, who was looking like some insane combination of sexy and beautiful and cute, because Santana felt like it was time to be a bitch and pay her back for keeping Rachel a secret for the summer.

Before she could say anything, Santana slid her gaze to Rachel, "Do you mind us crashing your dinner date, Berry? It's been years, we can watch a movie. Catch up."

And, once again, before Quinn could even get out the words _shut up and get out_ , Rachel was releasing the bottom lip she'd bitten down on, as she shook her head, "I guess as long as Quinn has cooked enough, then you should stay…"

Quinn knew she wasn't imagining the disappointment on Rachel's face. It made her feel validated, but even more than that, pissed off. She didn't care what it would take, she resolved that Santana was going to deal with the consequences of this for months, if not years, to come.

And her friend just waved her hand, "Q always cooks enough to feed an army. Some sort of trophy wife bullshit she learned from her mom. Come on, B. We'll meet you guys in the living room."

Quinn glared at her friends as they started to walk away, before her head fell back with a groan, "I'm sorry," she repeated.

When she opened her eyes, Rachel was standing right in front of her – close enough that she could smell a hint of her soft perfume – and giving her a small smile, "It's okay, Quinn. Not the ideal way I envisioned our evening, I'll admit. But since we're… friends now, it might be nice to have a chance to get to know Santana and Brittany again, as adults."

"Any night but tonight," she muttered under her breath, before she shook her head, "I definitely didn't envision our night like this, either." Hazel eyes locked onto that enticing dark brown, and she kind of felt like she was falling into them, before the sound of the television turning on in the other room took her out of the moment and she cleared her throat, "I, uh, made a vegan lasagna."

The smile that broke out on Rachel's face was worth the multiple recipes she rifled through as well as her stress about having it all turn out perfectly, and she tilted her head to the side, "That is very sweet of you, Quinn." She trailed off before she licked her bottom lip and trailed her eyes down Quinn again, and she wondered if her shiver was visible, as Rachel's voice dipped, "And you look very beautiful."

"I should be saying that to you. You look… incredible, Rachel," she husked out and fought to not drop her eyes again, because she didn't know if they would leave Rachel's legs again. She was already itching to touch.

An adorable blush worked its way over tan cheeks, and before Rachel could say anything else, Santana called out, "So when are we eating this vegan shit? I'm starved!"

Quinn grit her teeth, "I don't know why I'm friends with her."

Rachel let out a soft laugh, and she brushed a soft hand over Quinn's, "I'm sure it'll still be an enjoyable evening."

Somehow, it actually was. Through dinner and a viewing of _Funny Girl_ – Quinn had insisted, in equal parts to make Rachel happy as to make Santana suffer – she could tell that Rachel relaxed gradually more in Santana and Brittany's company. Brittany had filled Rachel in on how she was dancing in L.A. while Santana was in school, and they'd had an impromptu dance session, after Rachel had discussed her own dance classes.

It was a pleasant night overall, and if it had happened at some point _after_ tonight, Quinn would have really enjoyed it. Her friends getting along with her… her Rachel. By the end of the movie, she was less irritated and not on edge, but – she was still going to make Santana pay at some point.

As the credits rolled on the movie – after _Funny Girl_ , they'd put in one of her mom's rom-coms – hazel eyes first glimpsed at the cuddled forms of her best friends on the other couch, before she looked at Rachel, who was settled on the other end of her own.

Quinn had gotten her a light blanket to drape halfway through the movie, and Rachel was curled under it in a little ball, as her head rested against the arm rest of the couch. Okay, maybe Quinn found herself ridiculously charmed that Rachel had nodded off several times during the movie.

And even though she wished they could have more time, she wouldn't deny that she found it adorable when Rachel blinked open those big brown eyes once more, before sitting up, "I think I should probably go now."

"Lame," Santana commented from her couch as Brittany got up to pick another movie, and Quinn cut her a glare, before she stretched and stood from the couch.

Then promptly tried to pretend she wasn't blatantly watching Rachel as she stood, pulling down the hem of her dress, before she arched her back in a stretch of her own. It was that easy for her to be annoyed at Santana and Brittany all over again.

She offered Rachel her arm to walk her to the door, which made Rachel smile before she took it and as they left the living room, Rachel let out a light sigh, "This was fun."

Quinn agreed, letting out a little hum, before she rolled her eyes, with a wry smile, "Even with _them_?"

No, she hadn't had a bad time. But the night could have been _so much_ better. Way fucking better.

But Rachel shook her hair back and gave Quinn another smile, this one a little teasing, "Yes, even with Brittany and Santana. It's nice to see that you're still friends with them. Even though… you haven't mentioned them this summer," her mouth drew into a pretty frown, as they came to a stop at the front door, and Rachel peered up at Quinn with a question in those dark eyes, "Is it because of high school? Because I – well, I'm clearly over what happened back then."

Quinn sighed, both at the question and at the fact that Rachel slowly slid her arm out of hers and she liked the contact, "Uh, partly." And that was true, because _yes_ , all of them – Brittany to a lesser extent – hadn't been the best to Rachel.

She'd made her apologies, and she knew that she'd changed. Well, at the very least, she'd matured and accepted her sexuality, which made the latent angry repression she'd dealt with dissipate. But Santana, arguably more mellow now and less ready to scratch out someone's eyes, hadn't and wouldn't make said apologies.

But she also knew that Rachel was, well, Rachel and would move beyond it all, apology or not. It was just that this summer, she had been so preoccupied with reconnecting with Rachel and trying to build this relationship between them, not to mention bonding with Beth and working on the musical, she hadn't even had much spare time to talk to Brittany or Santana much at all anyway. And what time she _did_ have to talk with them, she hadn't wanted to hear Santana's comments and mocking about Rachel and her repressed high school self. Like Santana had any room to talk.

Which she was definitely going to be listening to when Rachel left.

She sucked in a deep breath before she murmured, "And… I wasn't ready to share you with them, yet."

Anticipation clawed up into her stomach when Rachel paused and looked up at her, dark eyes searching her own. And then she knew she definitely wasn't imagining things when Rachel leaned in, and Quinn froze to try to memorize everything as her heart stopped.

… and then those full, plump lips pressed against her cheek. Rachel gave her a soft, lingering kiss that left her both thrilled and hating herself, because it was just a _tease_ to feel that.

And then Rachel pulled back and gave Quinn a soft smile, as she whispered, "Have a good night, Quinn."

"You too," the words escaped her before she could even really think about them, and Rachel was slipping out of the door.

When it closed behind her, Quinn swore her brain caught up with the last few minutes, and she stomped her foot slightly, cursing herself. That could have been a moment! That could have been _the_ moment! And it had slipped through her fingers.

Who cared that Brittany and Santana were in the other room or that their dinner hadn't been able to go as she'd planned? What if there was never going to be a so-called perfect special moment?

Before she could let herself overthink it, she quickly reopened the door and was prepared to run down to where Rachel had parked.

Only to see that Rachel was still right on her front porch, her hand lifted to knock. Quinn paused, a smile taking over as she murmured, "You're still here."

Rachel took a deep breath and looked up at her, "I am. Well, I was going to leave, of course, but – I saw the dining room when I went to go to the bathroom earlier. It had those candles and the new flowers and you'd set it beautifully. And you look _so_ beautiful, Quinn. You had all of this planned perfectly…" she trailed off, running her tongue over her bottom lip as she seemed to contemplate the next part of her ramble.

But that was all Quinn needed to hear, and she stepped forward, closing her front door behind her, which Rachel took in with a confused glance, "Quinn? Are you okay?"

"I'm great," she whispered, and stepped even closer. Close enough that she felt wrapped up in Rachel's perfume again, the subtle scent making her deliciously dizzy, and she reached out to place her hand on Rachel's hip.

She took it as a great sign that Rachel didn't move back, but looked up at Quinn with wide eyes, "Quinn…" she licked her lips, and Quinn watched the movement as a bolt of arousal struck through her, "What are you doing?"

With a small step, she was as close to Rachel as she could be, and she took in a quick inhale at the feeling, hazel eyes searching brown, before she started to dip her head, asking, "I haven't been reading everything wrong, right?"

And, god, she was _so_ close to having her lips on Rachel's, so she sincerely hoped that this was what Rachel was going to knock on the door for. She'd wanted this kiss since before she even knew that kissing girls wasn't a sin, so she sincerely hoped that. She'd wanted it since she'd even known what actual desire was. Since her first week at McKinley and Rachel had walked by her in the hallway with her animal sweater and tiny skirt.

Rachel's hands came up to her shoulders, and she could feel them flex, gently, once, before they pulled her even closer, settling Rachel's body against her own, "No, you've been reading them all right," she whispered, and Quinn didn't know who made the last move, but it didn't matter, because finally, she had that mouth on her own.

The light contact already made fireworks explode in her head, and Rachel's lips were so ridiculously _soft_. She'd always thought they would be, as she brushed hers over them once, twice, and then settled a third time.

The groan that escaped the back of her throat at Rachel's returning pressure against her lips couldn't be helped, because all of that pent up longing was unleashed, and she slid her arms around Rachel's back, as she angled her head to take the brunette's full bottom lip between her own.

Rachel's answering moan was all she needed to hear, and she brought her hand up, sifting her fingers through those long, silky dark locks, as she drew back, releasing her, before she nearly was knocked backwards as Rachel pushed up against her, firmly pressing her against her front door.

And Quinn didn't know if she'd ever been more turned on by a kiss in her entire fucking life, as she felt Rachel's tongue brush over her bottom lip, before she granted access, and then sighed into that delicious mouth.

Quinn knew then that she'd been crazy; this _was_ a perfect special moment. Having Rachel's lips on hers, tasting the brunette for the first time, with soft sounds coming from the back of Rachel's throat, as the summer night air settled around them… she didn't know if it would get better than this.

* * *

 **Please let me know your thoughts! Thank you so much to everyone who already has/does, and to everyone for reading!**

 **There is going to be one more chapter just to wrap things up for these two.**


	4. Happily Ever After

Rachel sat back in her seat for a moment, reliving the still vivid memory of her and Quinn's first kiss. They'd had thousands of kisses since then – the good morning kisses, the goodbye kisses, the goodnight kisses, the I-had-to-kiss-you-for-looking-so-cute kisses – and despite Rachel's superb memory, she would be remiss to say she could even fathom to remember more than a select few in detail.

But she didn't think she could ever forget that first one.

"Is that the end?" Liz questioned as she pushed herself forward in her seat, "They kissed and it was a magical kiss and then the story's over?"

Before Rachel could get a word in, James quickly sat up, looking upset, "But they didn't even open the musical, yet! It can't be the end!"

Shaking her head, she answered, "It's not over, not yet. Almost. But first I'm going to get a glass of water."

She pushed herself up and grimaced slightly with the feeling of her back popping into place from having sat on the floor for a little longer than she would have liked, after having a dance rehearsal this morning for her show.

"Hurry up, Berry, we're running out of time before we're going to dinner," Santana informed her, serving as a reminder that she was still – surprisingly patiently for Santana – waiting on that answers she wanted.

Rachel shook her head slightly before she made her way into the kitchen. Honestly, it wasn't as if not telling their friends about the news wasn't difficult for her in the last month and a half, either.

As she turned into the kitchen, she came to a surprised stop as she saw that she wasn't alone, "Shelby! When did you get here?"

Her mother was sitting at the table, sorting through the bags and items she had presumably picked up from her last-minute Christmas shopping this afternoon. The older woman gave her a small smile over her shoulder, "About ten minutes ago, you all seemed pretty absorbed in the story you were telling, so I didn't want to interrupt."

She felt a smile tugging at her lips as well, and even though it had been years now since the majority of her bad feelings had dissipated, how far they'd come was something Rachel was always aware of, even if on a subconscious level, "It's… nothing you haven't already heard before."

More or less.

Shelby gave her another small but warm smile before she turned back around to sort through her bags.

For a second, she was taken in by how _strange_ this all was. Usually, the reminder that they were at this place in their relationship at this point was something that gave Rachel a pleasant warmth in the pit of her stomach. But in the face of just how far they'd come – after thinking about the beginning of this path they'd traveled while retelling it to the people in the other room – it astounded her.

None of it had been easy, and it had all been a slow process. But they were here now, at a point where Shelby felt comfortable coming into her apartment after shopping while planning on spending, and what was more than that, _Rachel_ felt comfortable with it, too.

It was almost jarring, in all honesty, to have this present and the past juxtaposed like that.

When Shelby sent her another look, her eyebrow quirked slightly in question, Rachel shook herself out of her thoughts and got back to her original goal, pouring herself a glass of water as her mother asked, "I didn't expect to see Kurt and Santana here. I thought they were supposed to be meeting us at the restaurant. Unless I heard the plans wrong."

Rachel released a quick huff of exasperation as she placed the glass in the sink, even though she couldn't stop her grin, "You're not incorrect. They… just came over."

"And got sucked into your story?" Shelby guessed, and Rachel's dark eyes lit up in amusement.

She confirmed, "Exactly." A quick glance toward the clock at the top of the stove revealed to her that Quinn, Frannie, and the bundle of their combined parents were supposed to be returning soon and that she still had an audience virtually waiting on baited breath, "I should get back to it."

"I'll be here," Shelby gestured to the myriad of items she had sprawled out around her on the table. The older woman turned slightly, before Rachel saw her forehead furrow slightly in thought as she turned back to face Rachel, "I know we haven't had much time to spend together so far on this trip, but… I'm really glad that we'll be spending the holidays together, Rachel."

Her words stopped Rachel from leaving the room as she'd been on her way to do, and she wouldn't have been able to stop the absolute happiness spread through her if she'd tried, "Me, too."

The words came out without really even having to think about them, but they were the absolute truth. While they'd clearly become closer, this was the first time that Beth and Shelby would actually be in New York and spending the holiday with them.

With one last smile, she started making her way back to the living room, with a spring in her step. And, granted, she was walking a little quickly because she had a renewed excitement to finish the story before Quinn would arrive and they would go out to tell everyone their latest news.

As she walked back in, she saw Santana leaning forward in her seat, glaring at Liz, who looked back at her defiantly, while the others watched in amusement – especially Kurt, the delight in his eyes more than apparent.

"What did I miss?" she narrowed her eyes, at Santana, as her hands went to her hips and she waited for a response.

She wasn't let down, as Santana immediately turned her glare to Rachel, "She called m- _Naughty bear_ a bad friend for interrupting the date!"

A laugh bubbled up in her throat as she lifted her eyebrows – the amusement, especially Kurt's, was all clear now. Liz nearly jumped up from her seat in her own defense, "Well, she _was_! All Goldilocks wanted was to spend some time alone with Tinkerbell and get that magical date with her and she did all that work, and then Naughty bear wouldn't just leave!"

"That doesn't make _her_ a bad friend," Santana retorted, "It means she was being a cock-bl-"

Kurt had already put his hands quickly over James' ears but Rachel hissed out, " _Santana_!" before she could finish. Not that it really matter, anyway, with Alex's eyes already wide and imploring, trying to figure out what she'd been saying.

Her friend shrugged, but gave in to sit back against the couch as she grumbled, "It's the truth."

Eager to change the subject, Rachel stepped over James, and took her seat on the floor once more, "Anyway, the end of summer was approaching…"

* * *

"So, honey, do you have anything to… tell us?" Her dad, Hiram, prodded, as Rachel could see her daddy nodding next to him across from her at the dinner table.

Their mostly-finished pizza lay between them, and Rachel looked back and forth, before she sighed, "Okay, no, I still haven't finished clearing out my closet."

She was admittedly and woefully behind schedule to finish packing. And it really was cutting everything close in terms of the timeline they were on. It was already the beginning of August; the play would be opening in just under three weeks, running for a week, and then only a day after it closed, her dads would officially be moving. Two days after that, Rachel would have to be back in New York for the new semester.

"That's not –" Hiram only got through half a sigh before what she said seemed to catch up with him, "What? I thought you were going to have that done last week!" the need Rachel had to be punctual and have everything orderly had been picked up from him – and hers was toned down.

Rachel rolled her eyes with a fond smile pulling at her mouth, "Dad, while I might be behind in packing, I promise you that I'm a grown woman and I will make sure I have everything done on time for the move. When have you known me to be behind schedule?"

Aside from right now, she added mentally.

But her dad nodded, reluctantly. And Leroy shook his head before he cleared his own throat, "How about you tell us a little more about the _reason_ of why you're so behind?"

Rachel bit her lip, feeling her cheeks heat up just a bit, "Well, rehearsal has been getting… intense lately. You know, we are extremely close to opening day."

It was the question that got Hiram back on track as he sat forward, "Yes, but is there something else that has you distracted? Some _one_ else, perhaps?"

Of course her dads were right; since the night that she and Quinn had shared their first kiss, almost two weeks ago, they'd been spending even more time together. Maybe that wasn't the correct way to phrase it, as they had already been seeing each other nearly every day. But Rachel was certainly far more reluctant to go home after a dinner date or a coffee date now, when things were getting so much more personal between the two of them.

They'd been getting close before, and now they were starting to talk about even more. Delving into relationship pasts and dipping their toes into more unchartered territory; it was thrilling, to be honest.

And _that_ wasn't even talking about the –

"The someone we might have spotted you kissing in the car last night," Hiram added for good measure.

Rachel's mouth fell open, "Were you _spying_ on me through the window? Dad, you're aware that I'm twenty-years-old, right?"

Her dad rolled his eyes dramatically, "Well we wouldn't _have_ to spy if you would just tell us who your mystery woman was. Besides, it was hardly spying; you two were parked, right outside, in a bright red car."

Leroy's eyes glowed with amusement, his voice laced with mock disappointment, "I didn't even get to make my joke about cleaning out a different kind of closet. But, really, are we going to have to go through every pretty blonde you might know in this town before you finally tell us who's had you smiling and texting up a storm?" He turned to look at his husband, "It _was_ a blonde, right?"

Feeling her cheeks heat up, she sat straight up before her dad chimed in, nodding, "Definitely a blonde."

Tossing her hands in the air, she sighed, "Okay! Okay, it's Quinn Fabray. Yes, the director of the musical that I'm currently starting in at the Lima Community Center."

Both of her fathers stared at her for a few moments, before her dad asked slowly, "Isn't she that girl who bullied you in high school? For years?"

And _this_ was one of the primary reasons that she hadn't exactly mentioned Quinn to her fathers yet. High school might have been over, but she was well aware that her dads were still her dads. She could already see the judgment clouding in, so quickly, she started to defend, "Okay, _yes_ , she historically was not the nicest person –"

Her dad's teasing smile had completely disappeared by now and was brewing into an unhappy frown, "Didn't she throw _food_ at your face?"

It took her a second to connect, before she corrected, "Slushies," and then grimaced, because that probably was not going to help, "But, might I remind you, those stopped before high school even ended. Not to mention, that is the past. You both know I've grown since high school; Quinn certainly has as well."

The Quinn Fabray she'd known – albeit not very well – in high school would never have jumped through hoops to create them a romantic evening. She never would have sat through the rant Rachel had gone off on about a song on the radio as she drove her home last night. She never would have been smiling at the end of said rant with a smile on her face, or responded by shaking her head slightly and leaning in and capturing Rachel's mouth in a kiss.

Which evolved into longer, heavier kisses.

Clearing her throat softly, she shook her head and brought herself back to the present as both of her dads gave her a look, before exchanging one – wordlessly communicating in a way they'd had since she'd been very young. It was always something she'd enjoyed seeing between them, but right now it just made her sigh.

Which drew their attention back to her, and it was her daddy who spoke first, and she could see that it was slightly forced, "Okay, we'll give her a fair chance. But when do we actually get to _meet_ her? I know this summer has been a little crazy, with our work schedules and the move, but we would still make time for our daughter's girlfriend," his voice took on a slightly teasing tone.

But Rachel bit her lip and sat back against her chair, feeling a little unsure, "I'm – I don't know, daddy. Quinn is very busy this summer as well," she hedged. Which was true, Quinn had the show to direct and her daughter to connect with, which was a _whole_ other issue that Rachel was not discussing with her parents yet.

And the word girlfriend gave her pause. Though they were certainly going on dates, and ending those dates in a decidedly amorous manner, there hadn't been a label put on it yet. Not that it wasn't something she'd thought about.

However, she managed to reason with herself that what had been happening between them had only been going on for a couple of weeks, and beyond that – they had their own lives to go back to, outside of Lima, in less than a month. Rachel would go back to New York and throw herself back into NYADA, and Quinn would go back to New Haven.

This could be a real-life summer fling. Danny Zuko and Sandy Olsson with a more feminine twist, and in reverse, seeing as how they'd met by going to the same high school and now were experiencing this chance meeting with a summer romance.

Her answer clearly left them unhappy, especially her dad, as he huffed out a breath in a manner very similar to her own. And she knew that it was because he felt very put out over the fact that they didn't get to meet any of her beaus since she'd moved to New York.

Not that there had been anyone super serious in the last couple of years, but it was still something her dad lamented about.

"We're all busy," he grumbled, as her daddy started to clear the table, after nudging his husband with his shoulder.

She wondered if Quinn would be interested in meeting her dads – after all, she'd met Quinn's mom, sister, and niece. Her mother a few times, at this point. And they were going to meet on the opening night of the musical no matter what.

Acquiescing, she also started to clear the table as she told them, "I'll ask her over, maybe sometime next week."

As it turned out, she didn't have to wait to ask Quinn over to meet her dads. A couple of hours later, Rachel was immersed in her to-do list. Though she'd had so much time to pack already this summer, it occurred to her that the few things she'd managed to get done already really hadn't made that big of a dent.

Now dressed in an old pair of yoga shorts, a t-shirt that she wore when lounging around her apartment, and hair tossed into a bun, she felt motivated to pack.

It was also easier, given the fact that Quinn was busy this evening and Kurt was on vacation with Blaine and virtually unreachable, so she had no distractions. She was buried in her closed, submerged in piles of clothing, when there was a knock on her door.

Assuming it was one of her fathers with some more boxes to give her she called out, "Come in!" as she continued to debate over whether or not to keep the sweater she had in hand.

And her mouth fell open in surprise when she heard, "I didn't know exactly what to expect from Rachel Berry's room, but I didn't think it would be this messy," in a low, teasing tone that sent shivers down her spine.

Spinning around, she gaped at the blonde standing next to her bed, unfolded boxes securely in her arms, and a little smirk in place on those soft pink lips as hazel eyes looked around her room, taking it in, before they came back to land on Rachel.

Who blushed, and quickly stepped forward – hopping fairly ungracefully over one of her piles – to take the boxes from the blonde, "I'm typically very organized, I will have you know."

She brushed her hands over Quinn's deliberately, enjoying the way her stomach jumped at the contact, before she placed the boxes on the floor, as Quinn grinned, "Mhmm. I'll bet."

Before the indignant defense that was already on her tongue could fall from her mouth, her eyes widened in realization, "You're _here_!" And then she shook her head with how ridiculous that must have sounded before she expanded, "I just mean, did my dads say… anything to you?"

Because of course, in order for Quinn to be standing here in front of her, she must have been let in by one of or both of her parents.

The amused spark that was alight in those hazel eyes dampened slightly, replaced by confusion, "They introduced themselves and asked if I would mind bringing you these boxes."

Rachel let out a relieved breath as she nodded; the last thing she needed was for her dad to scare Quinn off, "Okay, good."

The confusion was still evident as Quinn ran her eyes up and down Rachel's face before she bit her lip, "Is it okay that I just stopped by? I was driving home, and when I passed your street, I just wanted to see you," her voice was low and smoky, and more than enough for Rachel to momentarily get lost in, before a mischievous smile flashed over her features, "And it's not like you haven't shown up out of the blue and surprised me before."

Rachel couldn't contain her smile as she shook her head, "You are more than welcome to surprise me at any time," she didn't know how many words she had meant as sincerely as those. "And I'm glad I get to see you today, too. How were Brittany and Santana?"

They hadn't gone on their routine coffee and/or dinner date today, because it had been one of the evenings that Santana had allocated to them, saying that soon the summer was going to be over and they wanted to get time in with Quinn before they were headed back to LA. Rachel couldn't blame them for the sentiment; she wanted the same thing.

She wouldn't, however, pretend that it didn't please her unequivocally that Quinn would gripe about when her time with Brittany and Santana took away from time with her, as she had for a little while earlier.

The blonde smiled before rolling her eyes, "It was fun, until Santana insisted we go to Breadstix for dinner. Again."

Rachel chuckled, thinking about how Quinn was constantly irritated with her friend's love of the faux-Italian restaurant. She'd sat through an irritated rant from Quinn last week about the restaurant and how she'd had more than her fair share in high school. It had been an extremely fun time for her, seeing as how – thus far – she didn't get many rants coming from Quinn.

Not to mention, Rachel agreed with the sentiment. She also was confounded at the fact that the restaurant was the go-to place for so much of their old peers.

Quinn bit her lip before she looked at the clothing piles over Rachel's shoulder, "So, what is going on with all of this?"

Rachel had forgotten completely that they were in the middle of her room, surrounded by her mess, and she spun around, "Oh! Well, I've actually gotten around to clearing out my clothes. I can pause, if you'd like, and we could… watch a movie?"

She hoped that the implication of _not_ watching a movie was clear. Though they hadn't had sex yet, and Rachel didn't actually plan on doing so while her dads were right downstairs – especially when this was the first time Quinn had come over and both of her parents were weary of her – there was absolutely no harm in some kissing.

And… perhaps a little touching, too. She wasn't one to move too quickly with any partner, and maybe what was going on between them hadn't been happening for very long, but Rachel felt like she'd been set aflame by it already. She was more than ready to explore.

Just the thought of it had her licking her lips in anticipation as she waited for Quinn to respond.

And she was entirely too disappointed when Quinn easily shook her head and stepped around Rachel, brushing against her shoulder as she walked over the piles, "No, I'll help you pack."

Which, okay, was sweet, and Rachel found she couldn't hold on to her disappointment too much, as she walked back to where she'd been standing before, and she pointed at the larger pile, "Those are clothes to be donated," then she moved to the marginally smaller one, "And those are coming back to New York with me. I'm also trying to figure out if there is something viable to wear to the cast party next week, or if I'll end up wearing the black dress I wore to your house."

Quinn nodded, her voice low enough to send shivers down Rachel's spine as she murmured, "That dress was very nice," as she looked at the clothes in each pile, and Rachel bent to pick up the sweater she'd been considering before Quinn had surprised her. It was dark green, with a reindeer emblazoned on the front – it had been her favorite in high school, before her tastes had started to evolve, with influence from Kurt.

And it definitely wouldn't be something she wore now, even by her own choice, she thought with a sigh, and decided that she already had such limited space in her and Kurt's apartment, that this would just take up too much of it to keep for the memories.

She was about to put it in the donate pile, when Quinn's voice stopped her, "You don't wear that anymore?"

Eyebrows scrunching together in confusion, Rachel gazed up at the blonde – who was standing closer to her now that she'd been a minute ago, "You've seen me all summer! Have you seen me in this kind of thing?"

Quinn pulled her bottom lip between her teeth before she asked, "What about the argyle? And the plaid skirts?"

Puzzled, she shrugged, "I don't know, occasionally some of the skirts. As I said, you've seen me all summer." She shook her head slightly until she placed the look on Quinn's face.

It was the same look that she'd seen last night in Quinn's car, as she'd drawn away. A slight flush, darkened eyes… it was a hungry kind of stare, and it shot a thrill through her, as she teased, "What, would you like for me to put it on?"

Quinn lifted an eyebrow at her, before she bluntly stated, "Yeah. Wear it to the cast party," she encouraged, and the look on her face was… scarily not reading as a joke, still looking at her with eyes that spoke of devouring.

A surprised laugh fought its way out of her throat even as she flushed, and she filed it away to think about it more at length later, about Quinn's apparent… enjoyment of the clothes she once teased her about.

But for now, she couldn't resist leaning in to capture Quinn's lips with hers, especially when she realized she hadn't done it already since Quinn had arrived. She brushed her mouth against Quinn's, softly, as a smile still played on her lips. Lightly, she nuzzled their noses together, before she sighed and settled in for a longer but still sweet kiss.

Before she felt Quinn's hands grasp firmly at her hips, and she gasped as she was pulled closer, her body settling in snugly against the blonde's taller one, as Quinn sought to deepen their kiss. Rachel gladly welcomed her entrance, a low moan escaping as their tongues stroked.

She slid her hands up, one arm wrapping around slim shoulders, as the other threaded into soft blonde hair, scratching lightly. And she was already questioning her own resolve to not go too far with her dads in the house – what could really be the harm in moving this to the bed?

Quinn's hand fisted in the back of her shirt before she pulled away, just enough for an inch of air between them, and she could feel Quinn's soft, warm breaths against her mouth. It really just made her even more disappointed for the breaking of the kiss.

But before she could question it, Quinn murmured, "Don't think I missed your _watching a movie_ invitation. I fully intend to take up the offer; I just wanted to get a look at your old wardrobe first."

She shook her head slightly, brushing her lips over Quinn's again in the process, as she let out a soft chuckle, "You are an enigma, Quinn Fabray."

Quinn walked them backwards, pressing Rachel against the wall and trapping her there with her body in a move that stole her breath and shot arousal through her, as Quinn husked into her ear, "Maybe you're just oblivious, Rachel Berry."

And Rachel resolved to ponder that later, too. But for now, Quinn's mouth descended on hers again, pulling her bottom lip between hers and sucking on it in a way that Rachel felt all the way down to her toes.

She slid her hands under Quinn's shirt, feeling her skin hot to the touch, and incredibly soft. And she lightly scratched her nails over the small over her back, which made Quinn moan into her mouth, and push more firmly against her, the entire lengths of their bodies closer than they'd ever been.

Her nipples hardened and she very much wanted Quinn to touch her there. As she slipped her tongue into the blonde's mouth again, she reached back and pried Quinn's hand from her shirt, moving it to her front, and slipping it under the hem.

She shuddered when Quinn's hand flexed against her hip, and trailed up her body. As Quinn's thumb stroked over her nipple, she broke their kiss and her head fell back against the wall, a low groan falling from between her lips, as she pressed her hips against Quinn's, uncontrollably.

And Quinn pressed back, dragging her mouth down Rachel's neck, lips trailing before she scraped her teeth against her.

She'd never been more disappointed that she was home, with her parents right downstairs, in her entire life. Regardless, they could still have a good time if not _as much_ as she wanted right now, and she ran her hands up Quinn's back, feeling her lithe muscles move under her palms.

There was no way Rachel could let herself get too caught up in thinking about what was going to happen in their future, because what _was_ happening was far, far too good.

Unfortunately, Rachel realized later that week, that she couldn't use that philosophy for everything that was currently unresolved in her life. She was walking slowly up the walkway she felt like she knew very well, but had really only walked up twice, her hands clasping together in front of her, fingers squeezing like if they squeezed hard enough, her nerves would disappear.

It didn't work.

But this had to be done; it wasn't something she could put off anymore, because she'd spent too long putting it off and now the summer was almost gone. She knew that she would regret not seeing Shelby and if not forming any sort of bond, at least getting closure.

It had been, after all, one of the main reasons that she'd returned to Lima for the summer. And in light of the absolutely enchanting developments in her personal life, she thought with a slight smile to herself, she couldn't regret that.

She knocked on the door and kept that in mind.

This time, when Shelby swung it open, there was no surprise on her face – Rachel supposed that happened when she actually called in advance – but a smile that she could read nerves in. For an inexplicable reason, the idea that Shelby was nervous made Rachel feel slightly less so, and she took a deep breath as she straightened her shoulders, "Hello."

Her mother's smile became slightly less nerve-filled, "Hi, Rachel. Would you like to come in?"

As she nodded, Shelby opened the door wider, allowing her to step in. It was the first time she'd actually entered the house from the front door, and as she started to follow Shelby down the hallway, she took note of the small details she'd missed before. The pictures – of Beth, Beth and Shelby together, or with various other people that Rachel assumed were relatives – as well as the other mementos that told her this was a home, with a family living in it, much like her home with her dads.

Shelby came to a stop as she walked into the kitchen and she gestured at the table, "I thought maybe we could talk a bit. Maybe have some iced tea?"

Rachel was already nodding slowly, her stomach twisting uncomfortably, as she moved to take a seat at the table. She cleared her throat as she smoothed her hands over her shorts, "I'd love a glass of iced tea, thank you."

She kept her eyes on the older woman as she poured them each a glass from a pitcher in the fridge before she turned around to place them on the table, and commented stiltedly, "There's nothing better than a glass of iced tea in the middle of a summer day."

Rachel found herself nodding in agreement, a small smile taking over as she thought about the many summer days she'd spent with Kurt sprawled out in their apartment during the last couple of summers, feeling like they were dying of heat, as they would drink iced tea, "I agree."

It wasn't long before Shelby set aside her glass and spoke to her, quietly, "Rachel, I was so happy when you called. I know you're going back to New York in a few weeks, and I didn't want to push you, but… I wanted to see you before you left."

She could hear how genuine Shelby sounded, and that loosened the knot in her stomach that much more, a niggling feeling of happiness trying to claw its way out. However, she remained cautious, even as she responded in kind, "I wanted to see you, too."

There was a flash of surprise across Shelby's face before she said, "I know that there aren't any guarantees about what I can ask of you and vice versa, but I do want you to know that I've thought about what you said, the last time you were here."

When Rachel had shown up out of the blue after a rehearsal almost two months ago. It wasn't exactly her finest of moments, she knew, and she grimaced as Shelby continued.

"I understand why you felt upset by everything that's happened, and why you were… blindsided by Beth. And I want you to know that I'm so _sorry_ for what happened, in the past. For how I handled things," her voice was low and open, and Rachel couldn't deny that she was starting to hang on every word, "I never should have broken my agreement with your fathers about contacting you a few years ago, because neither of us was ready."

And she understood that. That Shelby hadn't been ready for her, and that she had been ready for a mom, but she'd been _so_ ready that youthful imagination of having that role filled had very much complicated her expectations.

Shaking her head lightly, she drew her fingertips over her glass, collecting the condensation, "What makes you think we're ready now?" She couldn't help the question from slipping out.

But the fact remained that under everything – under the betrayal she'd felt upon learning that Shelby adopted a baby right after discarding her, under the rejection that had colored their relationship from their initial reunion a few years ago – what she mostly felt when it came to Shelby was fear.

Before Shelby could say anything to placate her, she explained quietly, "You started to get to know me once, and you didn't want to anymore," the hurt she felt at that was still very present. While she knew she would be able to survive it if they started to embark on this road again only to have Shelby turn back, she definitely would opt out of experiencing that again.

Shelby closed her eyes for a moment as Rachel waited anxiously, "It was never that I didn't want to get to know you, Rachel. It was that… you were ready for a relationship that I didn't know how to fill. And it was too much."

"But what makes you think it won't still be too much?" she pushes, because she couldn't let it go. It just wasn't in her to do so, "I know that you're not my _mom_ , only my _mother_ , this time. But while I am proud to say that I have matured and have more realistic outlooks – generally speaking – I'm still me," and Rachel was fully aware of what that meant. She was emotional, and she probably always would be. She got attached quickly, and she could rush into things.

And she didn't entirely understand the smile on Shelby's face, but it looked a lot like endearment, "I know you're still you, Rachel. But _I've_ changed. I'm – I am a mom now, and that's such a big reason of why I want Beth's parents to be in her life now. Because I never want them to feel like they have to be in my position," she took a deep breath, "And I would hate it if anyone made Beth feel the way I made you feel."

Rachel had no control over the tears that sprung to her eyes, because the admission that Shelby had made some sort of a mistake and acknowledging that she'd deeply hurt her in the past… it was something she didn't even know she needed, "I think… that I would like it if we could stay in contact after I go back to New York."

The relief was evident on Shelby's face, a tentative smile on her mouth, "You would?"

"Yes," there was still a shadow of a doubt there, but… something inside of her told Rachel that this was the time to lead. So, she was leaping.

Shelby was looking at her with a small smile on her face and Rachel let her hands fall into a lap as silence settled between them – not quite uncomfortable silence, which was a relief – and her fingers pulled at the hem of her shorts in uncertainty, "I'm in a musical at the Lima Community Theatre. _Jekyll & Hyde_. It's premiering in two weeks, and… maybe you'd like to come?"

The small smile broke out into a large, full smile, "I would love to… actually, I already knew about the musical. Quinn's told me about directing it."

At the mention of Quinn, Rachel couldn't contain the smile. These days, it seemed to be an automatic occurrence, "She's actually very good."

Shelby's dark eyes narrowed in contemplation, and Rachel could hear the same tone in her voice as she said, "She thinks the same about you."

The idea that Quinn had said as much made pleased butterflies flutter in her stomach. Of course Rachel knew that she was a talented performer, but it was always great to hear praise. And it was even better knowing that the praise came from Quinn, and that she'd said it to others.

Her mother spoke slowly again after a few seconds of Rachel basking in the compliment, "Quinn actually speaks very highly of you, all around. You two are… friends?"

Rachel, once again, wasn't even surprised that Quinn spoke highly of her. Maybe once upon a time she would have been – namely, up until the beginning of the summer. But at this point, she'd made it abundantly clear that she very much enjoyed Rachel's company… among other things. But it didn't change how pleased she was.

At the descriptor of _friends_ , her cheeks flushed, "I, um, yes. Quinn and I have become very friendly." Though she was feeling more open with Shelby as of the last half hour or so, she still didn't think they were at the right place in their relationship to discuss her love life. It was far, far too early. "She's with Beth today, right?"

Shelby nodded, "Yes. I asked her if she wanted to take her out for the afternoon, so we could have some time alone when you came over." She glanced at the clock on the stovetop, "Actually, they should be back any minute now…" she trailed off unsurely.

And Rachel saw this for what it was – the option for her to leave before Beth returned. But before she could even decide if she was ready to meet the little girl who was so connected to her through her mother and her… Quinn, she could hear the front door open, followed by giggling and little feet running down the hallway.

"Mama! Quinn took me to the park and then we got ice cream!" Beth came running into the kitchen, her head turning quickly as she tried to find Shelby, and there was excitement written all over her face, curly dark blonde hair in a messy ponytail. She lit up when she saw her mom, "And then she said that we could go swimming at her house soon, if you say it's okay." Then she peered beyond Shelby, making eye contact with Rachel, as she tilted her head to the side, the curiosity clear, "Who are you?"

For a moment, Rachel found herself just _looking_ at the little girl in front of her. She'd been very unsure about this whole thing, and maybe she was still feeling a little unnerved but despite the complicated situation that this was for her, Beth was just… so cute. And she looked so much like Quinn, from the hazel tinted eyes to the curve of her jaw, that it was impossible not to smile at her.

Which really only grew when Beth came closer and stuck out her hand, as she announced, "I'm Beth!"

"I'm Rachel," she introduced herself, taking the small hand in hers and shaking it, amused with the firm way Beth shook hers back.

Beth squinted at her, "How do you know my mama?"

Everything came to a halt for Rachel, because how to explain that? More importantly, Rachel certainly didn't want to be the one to do it. But she was saved by the sound of the front door closing and Quinn's voice rang out as she walked swiftly down the hallway, "Beth, you didn't take your backpack –"

And much like Beth, Quinn came to a complete stop when she came into the kitchen and saw Rachel there. There was a confused look on her face as well, "Rachel?"

"Is Rachel your friend, too?" Beth questioned as she turned around and looked up at the blonde.

Rachel took that as an opportune moment to stand up, "I think I'll go, now."

Shelby's glance darted from her to Beth and then back to her, "You don't have to."

And Quinn looked at them both before she addressed Beth, who was looking up at her impatiently for an answer, "Yes, Rachel is my friend. A very good friend."

Regardless of what Shelby said, though, she _did_ have to, because this… was more than enough for one day, "It was… nice to see you," she told Shelby before dark eyes flickered to Beth, who was looking at her once again, "And nice to meet you, Beth."

Quinn was still looking at her oddly, curiously, "I'll walk out with you," she offered, before she tore her gaze away and looked down at Beth, kneeling to give her a hug.

And Rachel could see in the look on Quinn's face, the contentment that flashed over her features as Beth hugged her back, that Shelby had no need to ever worry that Quinn would make Beth feel the way Shelby had made her feel.

She pulled back with a smile and a promise of, "I'll see you in a few days."

Beth responded with a bright smile, as Quinn and Shelby exchanged a few words, before Quinn tilted her head toward the doorway. Relieved for the way out, she sent a small smile to Shelby and Beth, and then was grateful for Quinn's hand snaking down her arm and brushing against her own. And she took the offer, entangling her fingers with the blonde's. The contact made the remaining uneasy feelings in her stomach fade as they stepped back out onto the porch in the sunlight.

Before they went any farther, though, Quinn used their joined hands to stop her, her thumb stroking over the back of her hand, "You didn't tell me you were coming here today."

It was a statement, but Rachel could hear the question of _why_. She bit her lip and looked at the closed door over Quinn's shoulder, "I felt like it was something I had to do by myself."

A look of understanding crossed over Quinn's features, but a small frown still popped up, revealing a cute crinkle between her eyebrows that Rachel had come to associate with whenever Quinn was feeling dissatisfied, "Still, we're – friends," she seemed to catch herself, before she added with a self-deprecating smile, "And we're a lot more than that." She tilted her head in a way that made the sun shine around her, and Rachel's heart stuttered because she didn't think she would see anything that looked more like an angel than Quinn did at that moment, as she murmured, "I would have wanted to be here for you."

It was really all she could take. Because she was already falling fast for the blonde, and all of the sweet moments she was discovering only made it happen faster. She rocked up to her tip toes to capture Quinn's mouth with hers in a quick kiss.

The kiss was just enough for a taste of the warmth and to experience the softness offered to her there. She was mindful that they were standing outside of Shelby's, and she didn't know exactly how much Quinn wanted Beth or Shelby to know about them. And she didn't know how much she wanted them to know for that matter.

But she did know that it was increasingly more difficult for her to not act like Quinn was her girlfriend, with or without the proper label, especially when she said things like that.

When she pulled back, she was met with the sweetest smile, and she was positive that her own mirrored it, as she squeezed Quinn's hand in her own, "It appears that you're here for me without even planning on it."

She'd started out this summer with the intention of getting to know Quinn Fabray better, and now she was trying her hardest to not fall completely head over heels for her.

It was something that she realized she had already utterly failed at, a few nights later.

Rachel hurried inside of the back entrance of the theatre, as she adjusted her dress. The cast party had started over thirty minutes ago, and while it was a _party_ so there was no reason for her to feel guilty about not being on time, it didn't change the fact that she simply preferred to be punctual.

However, it couldn't be helped that she had some very specific plans in which to put into motion this evening, and preparations at her house had to be made. Those preparations had made her sacrifice her typical timeliness.

She could tell that the party was already in full swing when she arrived, taking in the large back room that was meagerly decorated, dim lighting, with a dance floor and a refreshment table, as well as several members of the cast and crew looking like they were more at a club than the theatre.

But she could understand their excitement; she was feeling decently well about the way the musical had turned out as well – they were in the last week of preparations. Dress rehearsals and run-throughs that would continue through the following week until opening night revealed that though there were still improvements that could be made. But Rachel could say without a doubt that she would not be the least bit embarrassed to have her name associated with the production.

Dark eyes scanned over the crowd until she caught sight of Quinn across the room, looking agitated as she talked to Asher, and the sight of the blonde, with her hair done up and leaving her shoulders bare in that red dress she'd worn the night that she'd made them dinner – the night of their first kiss – brought Rachel to a stop.

The first time she'd seen Quinn in that dress, she thought that she might pass out from how incredibly sexy it made her look. She'd been lightheaded with it, and she felt the same arousal now.

It made her anticipate the night ahead even more.

Rachel knew, logically, that she should circulate a bit. Talk to her fellow cast mates and the crew that had been working to make the show happen. It was what a gracious (co)star would do. Especially given that she'd spent the summer with these people and Rachel hadn't gotten to know the majority beyond a handful of generally pleasant experiences.

Unless she was assisting them in bettering themselves, which sometimes didn't go as positively as she thought it should.

And despite all of that, the first person she wanted to talk to in the room, in most rooms, was the gorgeous blonde that she'd spent so much of her time with already.

The decision to approach Quinn rather than mingle was made for her, when Quinn turned her head and they made eye contact, the irritated expression seemingly melting into a small smile that made her heart skip a beat.

However, her path was blocked by a different blonde, who more like stumbled in front of her, "Rachel!"

Tearing her gaze from Quinn, she looked up at Laura-the-paralegal, who played the other female lead. A polite smile worked its way up onto her mouth, which wasn't very difficult. Though they'd had some issues in the beginning, Laura had made remarkable improvements, and Rachel was ultimately impressed. If not with her sheer talent, with the effort she'd put in.

Laura grabbed Rachel's arm as she wobbled a bit unsteadily in her heels, which led Rachel to believe that she was apparently, already drunk. Rachel suspected that she might have indulged before the party had begun.

When she reached out to help stabilize the taller woman – really, she was over six inches taller than Rachel herself – Laura's eyes found hers blearily, "You came! Asher thought you wouldn't, but I _knew_ you would. I mean, you put so much work in, you know?"

The mention of Asher made dark eyes narrow; her dislike of his unfounded arrogance – really, he was never using his theatre degree for anything more than community theatre – as well as his blatant feelings for Quinn that he repeatedly tried acted on despite Quinn's constant turning him down had only grown in the past months.

"I wouldn't have missed it," she assured her co-star. Which was _nearly_ a lie, seeing as how she was more invested in the unofficial after-party than this particular party.

Laura just nodded vehemently, before her grip tightened slightly, "You really know what you're doing, though. Your fancy school in New York really must teach you a lot. Hey, how hard is it to get in there?"

Rachel bit her lip, and, unbidden, her eyes sought out Quinn once more as she looked around Laura, and the blonde was back to glaring at Asher, which made Rachel glare once again before she brought her attention back to the woman still peering down at her, waiting for an answer. She had to think back to what she'd been asked, before the question dawned on her.

And she tried to keep the look on her face more or less impassive rather than incredulous, "It is _extremely_ competitive. I had no idea that you were interested in leaving your paralegal work."

"This summer taught me a lot, about singing and everything. I think it would be pretty fun to do. Who wants to be a paralegal forever?" she tilted her head, looking genuinely curious.

Rachel could be of no service in that matter, as her heart had always belonged to the theatre. As politely as she could, she nodded, "Might I suggest some more vocal lessons before you attempt a more professional setting?"

Laura's eyebrows drew down, "I guess that makes sense."

She nodded, looking past the blonde once more, to be met with Quinn already looking back at her. And even from across the room, she could read the look in hazel eyes clearly asking for help.

Who was Rachel to deny such a plea, "Laura, would you excuse me?"

The taller woman was already eyeing the refreshments table, as she nodded, "Sure. Talk to you later."

Rachel quickly approached, and she was already reveling in the warm smile Quinn gave her. Though her happiness was slightly tampered down by the look of frustration on Asher's face, as he tilted his head to acknowledge her, "Rachel. Lovely to see you this evening," and the sarcasm in his tone made her grit her teeth.

She glared at him, and took a step closer to Quinn's side, very much enjoying the way Quinn reached out and drew her closer with her hand on Rachel's lower back, "You as well, Asher. I hope you won't mind, but I'd like to steal my…" she paused for a moment, glancing at Quinn out of the corner of her eyes just to check, and was encouraged by the way the blonde's thumb stroked over the small of her back, a pleasant warmth settling over her as she finished with, "Date, for a dance."

Asher's mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again as he looked between them, eyes widening, "Your date?"

Quinn nodded, hazel eyes shining at Rachel in a way that made her entire body tingle as she confirmed, "Yes, my date."

" _Date_ date?" he questioned incredulously.

Causing Rachel to sigh, "Yes, Asher, _date_ date. We previously haven't made the cast and crew privy to our romantic entanglement due to the fact that Quinn wanted to maintain the respect she's garnered for her professional attitude this summer."

He was still looking between the two of them, his expression undiscernible, but Rachel was positive that she wouldn't like the next thing he was going to say no matter what. So she nodded firmly, "Now, if you'll excuse us."

The hand on her lower back was already directing her to walk away and toward the dance floor, and she complied as she looked up at Quinn, unsurely, "It's okay that I said that, right? Because now that Asher knows, everyone will know."

Quinn just looked down at her with this adorable, adoring smile on her lips, "I don't care at all." In a smooth move that surprised Rachel, and made her laugh even as her stomach erupted in butterflies, Quinn slid her hand to Rachel's using their hold to twirl her effortlessly before pulling her close and wrapping her arms around Rachel's waist as she started to move them in a slow rhythm, "In fact, I'm glad people will know."

A flush worked its way over Rachel's face, "Really?"

Quinn bit her lip as she looked down, and at that second, there was just a _moment_. The music played around them, and she felt Quinn's hands stroke over her back in a way that both elicited shivers and soothed her, as hazel eyes gazed into her own, looking so warm and open that it made her heart start to beat faster in her chest. She was worried to put a name on what it felt like.

And that was before Quinn confessed in a low voice, "Directing this show has been a great opportunity for me; I learned a lot and I like… most of the people here. But the truth is that there's only one person in the room right now that really matters."

If Rachel could have, she was positive she would have melted into a puddle on the floor. She beamed up at Quinn, just as the blonde's smile took a teasing turn, "That person is Asher, obviously."

"Quinn!" an indignant huff left her of its own accord, and she pulled back as she felt the magic moment die a bit between them. Though the joke wasn't quite enough to make her completely storm away.

But Quinn shook her head, tendrils of blonde hair swaying, as she simultaneously pulled Rachel closer and stepped forward once again, aligning their bodies together with the sway of the music. And she dipped her head, so that when she spoke, her voice was low and husky right into Rachel's ear, "Come on, you know that out of everyone in this room, there is only one person I would put this dress on for. Only one person I want to impress, and it happens to be the most talented person, who is also incredibly beautiful, and happens to be gracing me with a dance."

All right, Rachel didn't even remember the teasing joke that Quinn had made that broke the previous moment anymore. Her arms came up to circle around Quinn's neck, fingertips sliding into soft, blonde locks as she leaned forward to rest her head on Quinn's shoulder, inhaling her scent.

She could feel the content sigh that Quinn breathed out a moment later, as her arms shifted, wrapping fully around her, and she realized as they moved slowly along with the music that Quinn really was her perfect fit. Tall enough for Rachel to lean against comfortably, resting her head, but not so tall that she was dwarfed. Her slim body fitting so perfectly against her own.

She'd always suspected that it might be like this between them and now that it was confirmed, it made her heart feel like it was full. And other places feel… other things.

Shaking her head slightly, she felt her cheeks burn, as she couldn't resist leaning in and pressing a quick kiss against Quinn's neck, before she whispered, "Quinn?"

"Hmm?"

"My dads are at the new house for the night," she lightly scratched her nails down the back of Quinn's neck, "You should come over."

She didn't go into detail about the fact that she had been the one to suggest that they both go to the new house together tonight instead of their original plan of driving up tomorrow morning to spend the day there. And then she'd practically ushered them out of the house to ensure their absence. Then had come running around to get ready for this party while also making sure that the last step of her plan was in order for later.

Quinn sucked in a breath, and her fingers – which had been stroking lightly over Rachel's back – passed as she pulled back enough for hazel eyes to search Rachel's face, and the way her eyes darkened, as well as the spark in them, already had Rachel's throat running dry even before she husked out, "So, we'll have your house to ourselves?"

Her lips curved into a smile, "Mhmm. So, after we leave here…" she trailed off, thinking about the night ahead, as she slid her arms down, dragging her hands down Quinn's back, so they came to rest on full hips, and she could see the shiver that went through Quinn.

Who looked around, sucking on her teeth for a moment before she asked, "So how long do you think we have to stick around here before we leave?"

A laugh worked its way out of her, even though she was wondering the same thing, "Well, you are the director, and I am one of the stars, so… we should probably stay."

Quinn's eyes narrowed in thought, "I think that just means we have license to leave whenever we want."

Rachel knew, as the consummate professional she was, that it wasn't something that would reflect perfectly on them. But she couldn't disagree, not when she wanted Quinn, and they'd spent the last few weeks pushing the boundaries on their physical relationship but always having to stop.

She bounced up to her tiptoes and brushed her mouth over Quinn's, not caring if anyone was watching at this point, only pulling back enough to breath out, "Follow me to my house. And when you get there, come in and lock the door," she directed, to be met with Quinn lifting her eyebrow at her.

"Yes, Ms. Berry," she faux saluted, before she leaned in and slid her lips over Rachel's once again, murmuring, "One for the road," as she pulled away.

One for the road really hadn't been enough, she reflected as she drove home quickly.

But it was probably for the best that they didn't drive together, she reflected. Because she was already anticipating what was to come, and she would have been very distracted had Quinn been in the car with her. Being able to smell the subtle tones of her perfume… even watching her drive was something Rachel liked to do. She always looked very in control.

Knowing Quinn had left quickly after she had, Rachel rushed up the stairs and into her room for the final preparation of the evening. Which… she didn't even know if this would play out the way she hoped it would, but she was Rachel Barbra Berry, and she didn't do anything halfway.

As quickly as she could, she unzipped her dress and quickly changed, only managing to brush her hands over her hair to smooth it down when she heard Quinn walking down the hallway, asking, "Rachel?"

With a deep breath, her stomach in a mess with excitement and arousal and a little bit of nerves – it had been a while since she'd slept with anyone, and she'd certainly never had sex with Quinn Fabray – she pulled open her bedroom door, nearly jumping in surprise when she saw that Quinn was right outside of it. She cleared her throat and drew her shoulders up in a way that she knew she'd done in high school.

After all, she was a talented actress, and it wasn't difficult to play herself, "Quinn Fabray, in my own house."

The wondering she'd done about this step flew out the window as she watched Quinn draw back before raking her eyes down Rachel's body. Complete with the reindeer sweater Quinn had seemed to enjoy last week, the shortest of her plaid skirts she could find, and finished with a headband quickly placed in her hair.

She watched on a baited breath as Quinn's tongue traced over her lips, as hazel eyes tracked back up her body, a smirk playing on her mouth when she met dark eyes, and the hunger she saw in Quinn's stole her breath, "I can see why you wanted to get here before me."

She tugged at the hem of her sweater, "Do –"

The rest of her question was swallowed by Quinn, as plump pink lips descended on her own. She gasped at the hunger there, her hands coming up to grasp at Quinn's shoulders as the blonde nipped at her bottom lip with her teeth, and it made her shiver.

Quinn took a step forward, sliding her hands down to cup over Rachel's hips as she started to back Rachel into her bedroom, as her tongue flicked up and stroked along the roof of Rachel's mouth in a way that made her knees weak.

It was then that she remembered – this was _her_ planned evening to take Quinn, and she slid her hands to trace over Quinn's sides before she grasped at her waist and spun them, walking until Quinn's back was against her bedpost, and she surged forward, to take another taste of Quinn's mouth before she dragged her mouth away, starting on a journey down Quinn's neck.

God, she thought it should be impossible for skin to be this smooth, and she was itching to feel how smooth she was everywhere, as she lightly nipped at Quinn's throat. The resounding moan that reverberated through Quinn's body shot Rachel's arousal through the roof, and she could already feel how wet she was.

Her hips pressed against Quinn's, whose own ground back against her, and she groaned when she felt Quinn's hand land on her thigh, squeezing gently, before it slid up under the fabric of her skirt, and then gripped as another hand landed in Rachel's hair pulling her back, so she could meet dilated hazel eyes, as Quinn growled out, "You have no idea how long I've wanted this."

Rachel spared a look down at herself, before looking back at the blonde, "I think I'm starting to have an idea."

Quinn didn't even care enough to retort before she used the hand she had buried in dark locks to pull Rachel in close to her again, as she ducked down to set her mouth over Rachel's once more.

She sucked on Quinn's tongue, feeling her groan, as the hand in her hair tightened once more, before it slid down, and came to trace over the hem of Rachel's sweater, not hesitating before slipping under, and tracking up her stomach, until the backs of her fingers reached the underside of Rachel's breast.

With a whimper, she tried to press herself even closer, rocking her hips against Quinn's as she felt Quinn pinch at her nipple, shooting sparks through her nerve-endings. Quinn's fingers were… magical, she decided, as she moaned into her mouth.

Her own hands tracked up the back of Quinn's dress, because this dress _was_ a lady killer. And Rachel was a victim. The dress had to be brought down. To her bedroom floor. Her fingers found the zipper, and she only pulled it down an inch before she paused and ended their kiss, intending to double check.

And was met with Quinn's hand sliding down, fingers scratching over Rachel's stomach, making her quiver, as she nodded, quickly, her voice low and urgent, "Just – take it off."

Good. Great. Rachel's hands were nearly shaking from how turned on she already was as Quinn's fingers dug into her thigh, and she undid the zipper as soon as she could, her breath catching in her throat, as she stepped back enough for the dress to fall to the ground.

Taking in Quinn standing in front of her with only a pair of black panties on was almost enough to bring Rachel to her knees. She was all smooth pale skin – from her tones arms and legs to her flat stomach – and, her breasts were so… _perfect_. Perfectly rounded and tipped with pink nipples that were begging for her attention.

And Rachel's mouth watered with want to give it to them, as she breathed out, "You're so beautiful, Quinn."

The blonde's cheeks flushed as she bit her lip, and she brought both of her hands to the waist of Rachel's skirt, dipping her fingers in to pull Rachel closer again. But Rachel averted the kiss, and ducked her head, placing kisses along Quinn's shoulder, then trailing them down her collarbone, as she slid her hands up to cup Quinn's breasts, bringing her mouth to wrap around an already hard nipple, relishing in the way Quinn's hands tightened against her, holding her, as she moaned.

She laved her tongue over the bud in her mouth, tasting Quinn, as she lifted her leg, pressing it between the blonde's and she could feel how hot and wet she was for her even though the thin fabric of both Quinn's underwear and her own skirt.

The feeling of it made Rachel groan against Quinn's breast, but she wasn't stopping for anything. Not when she had so much to explore.

That turned out to be not so true, when only moments later, Quinn's fingers tunneled into her hair and made her lift her head up to her own, lips crashing down on hers, and before she knew it, Quinn had them turned around, her hands sliding under Rachel's thighs and simultaneously lifting and pushing Rachel back, and she found herself lying on her back.

Dark eyes blinked open, and she thought that she might have died and gone to an afterlife when it was a naked, hungry, Quinn on top of her. And she was more than ready to be devoured.

Pink lips captured her own again, as Quinn's hands grabbed hers and held them above her head while her bare thigh slipped between Rachel's. Quinn pulled Rachel's bottom lip between her own before she released it and moved to her ear, sucking on her lobe for a moment before she whispered, "I know that you've arranged this whole thing. But I've wanted you for so long, Rachel, that I'm going to go crazy if I don't make you come. Okay?"

Before the question was even posed, Rachel was already nodding. Yes, she had envisioned being the one to drive Quinn to the brink of orgasm first, and yes, she typically didn't like when things didn't go according to plan.

But if there was one person on the planet who could say no to Quinn wanting to make her come, Rachel was positive they were crazy. She was certain it was going to take Quinn only minutes to make her come as it was; she was soaked already.

And then something in the atmosphere shifted. She felt it in the way Quinn's thumbs stroked lightly over her wrists, before her mouth pressed a gentle kiss to Rachel's jaw. Then she was pulling back and her hands slid to the bottom of Rachel's sweater, slowly inching it up.

Followed by soft, sweet kisses pressing against her stomach, where she couldn't control her muscles twitching. She pushed up on her elbows to watch as Quinn continued to slowly inch up her sweater, loving on every inch of her skin that was revealed and it gave Rachel a crazy combination of arousal and warming her heart.

Then she pushed even higher, revealing her breasts, and she bit her lip in ridiculous _waiting_ , because she wanted Quinn's mouth on her _now_ , but darkened hazel eyes stared at her, taking her in for a few seconds, before she shook her head, and met her gaze, "You're perfect, Rachel."

She opened her mouth – she wasn't even sure to say what – before those perfect pink lips latched onto her nipple, and she fell back onto the bed, her hands sliding into blonde locks. Because Quinn's mouth was just as talented as her fingers had been minutes ago, and she couldn't control the whimpers that worked their way out of her throat, or the way her hips started to buck against Quinn's abdomen.

She wanted Quinn so fucking badly.

"Quinn," she panted, gasping and arching as teeth nipped lightly at her nipple, the feeling coursing through her entire body.

Her tongue soothed the area, before she pulled back, eyebrow lifted, "Hmm?"

It took her a moment to remember that she'd been trying to tell Quinn something, but it really wasn't that difficult to figure out with the insistent throbbing between her legs, "Touch me."

She didn't care how desperate she sounded. She didn't care that when Quinn touched her, she was going to feel her fingers dripping in Rachel's wetness. She just _needed_ to be touched.

Luckily, Quinn was on the same page, and she nodded, her fingers dipping into the waistband of Rachel's skirt once more, as she slowly pulled it down, taking her panties with it. Rachel watched Quinn's eyes track the movement down her legs, before she dropped the clothing off of the side of the bed.

And then those hands slid lightly back up Rachel's legs, leaving goosebumps in their wake, before they settled warmly on her thighs, and Rachel parted her legs in both invitation and demand.

Quinn's fingertips stroked in gentle, nonsensical patterns for a few seconds, as hazel eyes tracked up the length of her body, before locking on dark ones, "Perfect," she husked out again, and the tone of her voice made Rachel shiver again.

Before Quinn ducked down, and started pressing soft, tantalizing kisses against Rachel's hips, and Rachel couldn't stop herself from pressing upwards, wanting the steadily growing coil in the pit of her stomach to be released, and she felt Quinn's mouth curve into a smile against her.

Fingertips traced lightly up the inside of Rachel's thighs and left her quaking in their wake – she didn't think she'd ever anticipated this so much. In fact, she _knew_ it, and she _wanted_ more than anything –

"Yes!" the word left her on a moan as Quinn's mouth dipped lower, and Rachel felt her tongue slide over her slit, ending on her clit.

Magical mouth, she thought dimly, and then she didn't think at all as Quinn's mouth latched onto her bundle of nerves, sucking lightly, as her fingertips traced over Rachel's folds, slightly dipping inside, before moving back out, and going back to teasing her.

The build of her orgasm was torturous, but Rachel knew it wouldn't take that much longer. Not with Quinn's mouth on her like that, and one of her hands dug into the comforter, trying to ground herself as she lifted her head, to see that blonde hair between her thighs and – _god_ , just the image of it hurtled her that much closer to the edge.

Her other hand curled around the back of Quinn's head, and then she felt Quinn's shift, moving lower, before she pressed her tongue into Rachel, her nose brushing her clit, and Rachel fell back onto the bed, an uncontrollable cacophony of whimpers and moans leaving her mouth as her world started to implode.

Her orgasm crashed over her in waves, her hand tightening in Quinn's hair, holding her against her, and she felt time froze. Without a doubt, she'd never felt this much pleasure before.

Finally, she didn't know how much longer later, she fell back limply onto her bed, trying to catch her breath. She could dimly feel her leg twitching as Quinn's magical mouth gently lapped at her, before pressing a kiss to her thigh.

And then the vision that was Quinn, with her hair all mussed from Rachel's grip, and her mouth dripping with Rachel's wetness, a satisfied smile on her face, appeared above her. Dark eyes blinked open, and Rachel felt a large, lazy smile slide over her own face.

"You… are very good at that," she breathed out, and Quinn just smirked in response, before she lowered her head.

She paused just before she met Rachel's mouth, and she surged up, making the connection. Moaning at the taste of herself on Quinn's mouth, she adjusted so that she could press her leg up between strong thighs.

And she was met with the realization that Quinn had already slipped off her own panties, and even though Rachel had wanted that honor for herself, she couldn't begrudge the perfect feeling of Quinn's slick heat right against her thigh.

The blonde tossed her head back with a gasp, as she grinded herself back down on Rachel's leg, and she could not _believe_ she had Quinn in her bed like this, or that Quinn was so wet from having made Rachel come.

She brought one of her hands up to slide into blonde locks, bringing Quinn's mouth back down to her own, before she rolled them over, using the leverage to push into Quinn harder, reveling in the way the blonde threw her head back into her bed, her eyes closed.

Rachel wanted to taste Quinn, too, but they had all night and all day tomorrow, and the first time she made Quinn Fabray come, she wanted to see her face. She continued moving her leg against Quinn, the blonde's hips jumping up against her as Quinn dug her fingers into the small of Rachel's back.

"It's really not going to take me long," Quinn told her, through gritted teeth and panting breaths.

It spurred Rachel to action, as she drew her hand over Quinn's breast, palming at her nipple, and drawing her fingertip lightly around it, loving the way she could see her shiver from it, before she slid her hand lower, before she slid her leg back from that heat.

Only to replace it with her fingers, and she drew two of them over Quinn's slit, marveling in how wet she was and the breath Quinn quickly sucked in, before she slid her fingers into tight, wet, heat.

The moan that tore out of Quinn's throat at the intrusion was all Rachel could handle, as she started to pump into the blonde. She was single-mindedly focused on making Quinn come around her fingers, needing to see what she looked like, hear how she sounded.

And Quinn was right; only minutes later, Rachel pumping her hand, rubbing Quinn's clit with her thumb, she felt Quinn tighten around her, clenching so tightly it took her breath away as Quinn gasped out her name, and Rachel had never felt more in awe in her entire life than of the beauty that was Quinn coming apart under her, around her.

She gently pulsed her fingers, working Quinn through her orgasm, before she gently pulled out as she felt the blonde twitch under her, and she leaned down, peppering kisses all over that perfect face.

Quinn's hands slowly came to life, scratching over her back, and Rachel smiled against her. Quinn's breathing was still labored as she murmured, "I'm not the only one who is really good."

Rachel chuckled as she brushed her mouth over Quinn's.

They made the best of their time alone together in the next couple of days.

* * *

"You okay over there, Berry?" Santana cut in, her voice devious.

Liz glared at her, "I think it's super romantic that they danced together after Tinkerbell helped Goldilocks get away from a stupid boy." She fixed her eyes on Rachel, "But what happened next?"

She looked at her curiously, as everyone did except for Kurt and Santana, who _knew_. But Rachel hadn't even realized she'd paused in telling the story. She'd gotten too lost on her own thoughts after cutting herself off from speaking things not safe for children's ears – basically leaving off that part of the story far before they'd left the party.

Feeling her cheeks blush, she shook her head and cleared her throat, "Well, they shared their very romantic dance, before they went back to Tinkerbell's house. For a slumber party. Meanwhile, the big summer ending show before they were to go back to each of their villages was about to open…"

* * *

The absolutely incredible flames that had now been fanned made the summer affair burn hotter than before. Which, in turn, made Rachel start to dread the end of the summer. At the beginning, she'd been unable to wait for the summer to fly by, and all of the sudden, she wanted to hit the brakes.

If she thought she and Quinn had spent a lot of time together before, it only increased in the following week leading up to opening night. They stole time together whenever they could, wherever they could.

And it had Rachel more nervous than anything about the impending end of the summer. It was rapidly approaching, though, and time to put it off was becoming scarce.

While the performer in her was more than thrilled about revealing _Jekyll & Hyde_ to the public, it meant that her time with Quinn this summer was drawing to a close. And the thought of it hurt more than she wanted to admit.

Rachel sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror in the dressing room at the back of the theatre. The show must go on, and the show was going to be going on in about an hour. She was early, and thankfully alone, as she tried to sort out her thoughts.

At the knock on the door, she jumped and then felt her stomach dip in anticipation and excitement – because she was fairly certain it would be Quinn. She was looking forward to the fact that apparently the blonde had had the same thought about arriving early and that they would have some time together before the show, as she moved to open the door.

Only to be greeted with the smiling face of her best friend as she opened it, "Surprise!"

Her smile faded for a moment, only to be replaced by a different one, "Kurt! What are you doing here?" It dawned on her, "It now makes sense why you asked about where exactly I was, twenty minutes ago."

He grinned at her, stepping closer to her and wrapping his arms around her in a hug, "I told you at the beginning of the summer that I was going to be here for opening night. Did you think I was going to miss your Lima Community Theatre debut?"

She pulled a face at his teasing tone, and dark eyes rolled, even as she couldn't stop the smile on her face, "I didn't think you were going to be back from your vacation with Blaine already!" she'd thought they were going to be at Blaine's family's beach house through the next week.

Kurt's eyes twinkled mischievously, "All the better to surprise you." He gave her a final squeeze before pulling back and looking around the small dressing room. It was very small, shared by the female cast, and fairly messy, but he was already drawn to all of the costumes.

He walked past her, drawing his hands over the clothes before he asked, "Who were you expecting, hmm?"

Rachel cocked her head to the side, feigning innocence, "When?"

"Not that I don't think you're not happy to see me, but you had a special kind of a smile, on your face when you opened the door. Don't think I overlooked that," he shot her a look over his shoulder, a knowing smile.

She sighed, "Kurt, the building is empty. Who could I have been expecting?"

He didn't fall for it though, "Rachel Barbra Berry, after being friends for years, let along living together, you think I don't recognize that infatuated smile when I see it?" as soon as the words left his mouth, he gasped and spun around to face her, "You were expecting Quinn, weren't you?"

Her cheeks flushed, but she drew her shoulders up straight and proud, "Fine, yes, I was expecting Quinn."

He narrowed his eyes and walked back to her, observing her face, before his mouth fell open, "That's not what you look like when you have a crush! You two are _together_!" he pointed at her accusingly, before he practically screeched, "I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

Arms crossed, she huffed out a breath, "It's not as if I didn't want to tell you." That much was true; talking to Kurt would have been very helpful for her to help sort out the situation and her feelings on it, "Blame the fact that Blaine's family's summer house has practically no cell phone reception!"

"Spill. Everything," he directed, delight washing over his features, and she knew that she would have his rapt attention.

Mindful of the time, and that others would be showing up soon, she gave him an abridged version of their summer romance, "It all started when she invited me over for dinner a month ago," actually, she thought it started before that, but now wasn't the time to go into the details, "Brittany and Santana crashed it –"

Kurt winced, "She's still friends with them?"

With a shrug, she nodded, "Yes, and they're not as bad as they were in high school. In fact, the night wasn't bad at all. Quinn planned and cooked our dinner and she was wearing this beautiful dress, and we kissed."

Thinking about it even made her own stomach fill with adoring butterflies, which were mirrored on her best friend's face.

She went on to tell him about the other sweet moments and the sexy moments, leaving Kurt to stare at her, wide eyed, "I can't believe you had sex with Quinn Fabray."

Sometimes, she couldn't either. But that wasn't what was important here, "Kurt! Focus. What am I going to do?"

For a moment, his eyebrows drew together in confusion, "What do you mean what are you going to do? I –" then blue eyes widened, as he hissed out, "You're in love with her!"

"I – I'm not," she denied quickly. Because it was too soon for that, wasn't it? All right, maybe she did have feelings that felt like that, but she'd been doing her best to try to push them away as best as she could.

Kurt just gave her a knowing look, "You need to talk to her. What if she's in this the same way?"

There had been signs that Quinn was feeling as much as she was as well, but, "What if she isn't, Kurt? It wouldn't be the first time I've felt like I've been in love super quickly, and thought that I was on the same page, but it turned out that wasn't the case."

In fact, that had happened too many times for Rachel. She _knew_ she fell too hard, too fast. And she'd been trying to get as much as she could out of her relationship with Quinn before that could combine with the distance that would soon be between them, and ruin anything between them.

Her best friend's face was sympathetic, "It's not like you have that much more time to not talk about it, Rach. You're going back to New York in less than a week."

"I know, I know," she sighed, and crossed her arms, "But that's still a few more days."

The fact was that she didn't want this perfect spell that had been set between them to be broken.

"I think you should talk to her sooner rather than later," he advised, and then opened his mouth to speak again, before he was cut off.

"Should I come back later?" Quinn asked from the doorway. The door that Kurt had forgotten to close after he'd entered.

Rachel jumped in surprise, as nerves tangled in her stomach – how much had Quinn heard? Dark eyes locked with Kurt's who was also looking wide-eyed for a moment, before he cleared his throat and his eyes lit up with a smile, "Hello Quinn."

She jumped forward between them, "Quinn, you remember Kurt, from high school?"

Pink lips that Rachel very much wanted to kiss in a quick greeting curved into a smirk, "Yes, Rachel, I remember your best friend that you've talked about many times this summer, whom you live with."

Kurt snickered, before he cleared his throat, "I think I should probably go get Blaine before the show starts. It was _very_ nice to see you, Quinn," he gave her a large smile, before he walked behind her, and pointed very obviously before mouthing _talk to her!_ behind her back.

She felt like her smile was strained as she tilted her head, telling him to leave.

Quinn looked at her, before she gently shut the door behind Kurt, and she leaned in to brush her mouth over Rachel's in a light, sweet kiss that Rachel had been craving.

But she drew back all too soon, lifting her hand to brush over Rachel's jaw lightly, as she murmured, "I heard him say that he think you should talk _to her_ sooner rather than later. Am I right in thinking that I'm her?"

Rachel looked up into hazel eyes, and she could see the uncertainty there, and she cursed Kurt and his timing. She hadn't wanted to bring this up yet, but… with a deep breath, she nodded, "I'm just – he thinks I should talk to you about the fact that I'm sad that _this_ is coming to an end." She gestured between them, and watched as Quinn's eyebrows shot up in confusion, so she rushed to continue, "I mean, I'm going back to New York in a week, and then you're going back to Yale, and our lives are in different places, and I've been wanting to know you and figure you out for so long, and now that I finally do have a handle on you, it's… ending."

She rambled, her stomach sinking with the realization that it really was all coming to an end, as she let out a sigh and looked up at Quinn again.

Who shook her head slightly, a small, inexplicable smirk on her lips, "You've been trying to figure me out?"

In all of what Rachel said, that was what Quinn focused on? Not her potential heartbreak? Exasperated, she nodded, "Well, yes. But I know you now."

Quinn stepped closer, into her space, as she asked in a low voice, "Do you?"

She swallowed and stepped back enough so that she could look into those hazel eyes, wanting to know what Quinn was feeling here, "Yes."

"Care to share?" She wasn't smirking anymore, and she was serious in her request.

So Rachel took a deep breath, "I've always known that you were a very passionate and intelligent person. But I've learned how much you love your daughter and seen how you worry about her and care for her and how vulnerable that can make you. I've seen how talented you are and how ambitious you are about your own future, and I know without a doubt that you are going places. I know that you used to hurt me because you were very much attracted to me, which explains a lot," she added with a small smile, her heart beating quickly in her chest.

Quinn's cheeks blushed a bit, and she sucked in a deep breath as she asked, "Is that it?"

She shook her head – there was so much she could say, "I know the little things. Like how you like your coffee. And how you like to sleep in, and how you read like you can never get enough. And the big things. About your family, and how strong you are and how much you've overcome to get to where you are, and that despite how amazing you are, you're just starting out." She released a sigh, her stomach tangled in knots as she expelled the truest thing, "I know you now, Quinn. And it's going to be very hard for me to let you go."

Dark eyes squeezed closed before they opened again to find Quinn shaking her head at her, before she reached out, and lightly trailed her fingers over the back of Rachel's hand, "You, Rachel Berry, are _not_ a mystery," she spoke lowly, before she laced their fingers together, which Rachel allowed – wanted – even as her mouth fell open indignantly.

Which made Quinn smile as she continued, "You think you're insanely talented and you always have. And you are. You ramble a lot and have a lot of strong opinions. You love to cuddle. When you get upset, you do this adorable little frown. You've been hurt before, but you still are willing to give second chances and let people in, even when they haven't proven that they deserve it. Because you have the biggest heart."

Said heart was thundering in her chest, as Rachel could feel herself tearing up, because she'd never heard anything so sweet, and _god,_ she was in love with this woman. She already knew it.

But Quinn wasn't done, "And you might feel like you've fallen for me too quickly, but I can assure you that it's mutual."

"So you did hear that," she whispered, and Quinn squeezed her hand.

"New York and New Haven aren't that far, and I have a few Metro North passes that I was going to give you in a few days that beg to differ with your idea that we have to let each other go," she reached down to take Rachel's other hand, and she couldn't stop herself from leaning in to kiss Quinn again.

She wanted the connection, and she loved the way Quinn sighed contentedly against her, before she leaned back and murmured, "I do know you, Rachel, but I want to know everything. And it doesn't have to end with the summer."

Rachel swore that _that_ was the moment she knew that what she had with Quinn was going to make it farther than any other romantic relationship in her life. She'd known it felt different from anything else she'd ever felt before, but… that was when she knew.

And she used their interlocked hands to pull Quinn down toward her, pressing their lips together again, swearing that it was something she could never get enough of.

* * *

"And, she was right," Rachel added, with a small, dreamy smile.

She was met with several other smiles, and she looked down at James, who smiled up at her, "How did opening night go?"

Thinking back to her very first opening night, she answered, "It went very well. All of their friends and family members came to see them."

"Even Tinkerbell's mom? The Queen?" Beth asked, and Rachel was very pleased with herself that the teenager had stopped acting like she wasn't interested.

She nodded, "The Queen came, too."

"What happened to them? Did Tinkerbell sing for everyone back in her big city? What about Goldilocks?" Liz asked, leaning forward in her chair.

Biting her lip, Rachel's eyes darted up at the mantle where awards rested, "Tinkerbell, naturally, went on to sing in the big city. She won several awards for it, just like she always knew she would, with Goldilocks supporting her. And Goldilocks also won some awards for directing, before she started writing. Which she was also extremely talented at," she added.

Before anyone else could say anything, the sound of the front door opening interrupted once more, and several voices rang out, which was enough for the kids to all hop up, from where they were, Alex yelling, "Grandma's here!"

At the same time that James scrambled to get up, looking at Rachel in excitement, "Your dads are here, too!"

Her dads, who took to spoiling the little boy rotten. The kids quickly left the room, and the sounds of them greeting her dads and Quinn's mom could be heard several rooms away. Kurt and Santana soon followed, as Rachel also stood.

She smiled, feeling ridiculously pleased with… her life, really, and the way it had all turned out. With a small sigh, she bent down to start collecting the pillows and blankets from the floor, only to jump when she felt a hand brush over her butt.

She recognized the touch even as she stood up quickly, face melting into a warm smile at the sight of her wife, who was looking at her in concern, "Should I believe my eyes? You volunteered to be entertain all of the kids by yourself, and you lived to tell the tale?"

Still excited, she shook her head at the teasing, and dropped the blankets that she'd collected as she pushed upward to capture Quinn's mouth with hers. It might have gotten so much more familiar, but that _feeling_ was still there. That feeling this gave her in the pit of her stomach, comforting and exciting all at once.

With a small hum as she got a taste, she pulled back and met hazel eyes with a bright smile, "It went so well!"

And Rachel was so incredibly relieved that it had gone so well. It showed her that despite the fact that she didn't have a ton of experience with a lot of children, despite the fact that she didn't like when messes were made or when things got out of hand, she could manage it. Which alleviated some of her stresses and her worries, and she knew that Quinn knew that. She could see it in her eyes.

As well as hear it in her voice, with her fond tone, "I'm very happy to heat that, baby." Then she quirked an eyebrow, "But why does Santana think we're leaving the country? Why didn't you just tell her about the townhouse?"

She felt an impish smile tug at her lips, as she looked at her wife through her eyelashes, "It was nice to know that she'd miss us. Besides, she's going to find out the truth at dinner, with everyone else."

And the truth was that their apartment was listed, Santana was right. But they were only moving to a new neighborhood. A neighborhood that was slightly nicer, quieter, and had more space, that they were soon going to need.

Dark eyes dropped to Quinn's stomach, followed by her hand, as she leaned into her wife and whispered, "How are both of my girls?"

She swore that she'd never seen a smile look warmer than Quinn's did whenever she talked to their baby, "Your girls are doing very well, despite the snow storm."

"Well, Emma is already exceptionally well-adjusted," she stroked her thumb over Quinn's still-flat stomach, unable to keep the affectionate smile from taking over.

Even as Quinn teased, "Is it Emma today?" her own hand came to rest over Rachel's, and their wedding rings brushed against one another as she stroked the back of Rachel's hand.

"I'm feeling nostalgic," she admitted, "I told them a story."

"I heard," the blonde arched her eyebrow, "Something about Tinkerbell and Goldilocks, falling in love?"

Rachel grinned, "Mhmm, it was an epic fairy tale, Quinn. Their love is one for the ages."

"I've never heard it," Quinn teased, dipping her head to press another quick kiss to Rachel's mouth as they were called by several of their visitors to come join them, "How did it end?" she asked against Rachel's lips.

She enjoyed the closeness for a few moments, before she answered, "Like all once upon a time stories, it ends happily every after."

* * *

 **Please let me know what you think!**

 **Thank you so much for reading, I've enjoyed dipping my toes into writing for Rachel/Quinn so far! And thank you so, so much to everyone who has let me know your thoughts, and who has messaged me about the story :)**


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